""> The Mummy by Czara and Megaera

Title: The Mummy
Authors: Czara and Megaera
DATE January 2000
Rating NC-17 Category M/K.

Summary: An AU story based on our yen for an Egyptian story. Originally a November challenge story

THANKS TO JoB FOR GREAT BETA AS ALWAYS.


Mulder slipped off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He had be working non-stop for hours, trying to translate one of the most difficult inscriptions he had ever seen. It wasn't just that the words were in a rare form of hieratic Ancient Egyptian, but there seemed to be foreign words that had been inserted into the text at intervals, to produce some sort of magical spell.

The text was written on an amulet that rested around the neck of his museum's latest acquisition, a mummy from the lost city of Per-Bast, legendary center of the cult of Bastet, feline goddess of love. Or so the shifty old thief had told him, when he had bought it in the back streets of Cairo. It seemed to be authentic.

It was odd, but the first moment he had seen the mummy, he had felt compelled to purchase it. There was just something haunting about him, as if somehow Mulder had seen the ancient mummy before. His colleagues in the museum were skeptical. The antiquities market was awash with fakes. So he had spent weeks trying to prove his acquisition was genuine. To no avail. It was times like this that he wished he had gone into a career in Law Enforcement, as his father had wished. Indiana Jones had a lot to answer for!

He studied the mummy once again. It was unusually well preserved, the leathery skin pulled taut over the bones, with strands of dark hair still remaining on the skull. When he had been alive, Mummy #253 had been a remarkably handsome individual. But why had he been in possession of such an unusual amulet?

Mulder tried to make sense of the words he had translated so far.

The goddess promises her favorite that love will never die. That love will come again. That love will bring forth life.

The name of the mummy was written in hieroglyphics on the back of the amulet. Alexandros, High priest of the Goddess Bastet.


"Alexandros," Mulder whispered.

"Alexandros, High Priest... High priest." The words seemed so right. The name rolled off his lips like a familiar endearment. The arms, crossed on the age-blackened skin beneath tattered bandages caught his attention and he pulled a bit of bandage aside carefully. Each arm was adorned with bracelets. Each bracelet was set on the bicep, now loose but in life would have fitted snug. The metal gleamed gold, entwined serpents with emerald eyes. He gaped in utter astonishment. The jewelry had not been there before, he knew it.

"Professor? Excuse me."

Mulder turned with a start, his hand halfway to touching the thin, dark strands of hair once more. He saw his assistant and gave her a small smile. "It's all right, Marta, I was just... what did you need?" He turned his face back to the mummy as Marta came to stand next to him.

"Isn't he a beauty?" he asked her.

She pursed her lips and pushed up her glasses.

"Well, he is remarkably well- preserved anyway," she offered. Her brown eyes traveled the long length of the old corpse.

"Tall for his day... have you dated it yet?"

Mulder shook his head.

"Did you need something?" For some reason he wanted just to be alone with his find... to study it, to figure out who Alexandros really was. The sweet smell of Marta's perfume was like hothouse flowers and he could see the lush flowers of ancient gardens.

"I wanted to tell you that I was leaving for the night," she replied.

"Night?" Mulder asked. He looked at his watch and was surprised to see that it was already five p.m.

"It's that late?"

Marta smiled, nodded and took one last look at the mummy.

"Don't stay too late," she advised. She patted her gray hair and when he promised he would leave soon she shook her head. Mumbling to herself about his propensity for staying too late every night, she left.

Mulder pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"Okay, Alexandros, I need to get some coffee. Maybe you can tell me just who you are and what you were when I return."


Several hours and multiple cups of coffee later Mulder had found out a few more facts about High Priest Alexandros. He had buried himself in the library and had eventually found two obscure references about the intriguing mummy.

There was an inscription on the Giza Plateau, which dated the reign of his mummy to around 900 B.C. and a single, decayed wall painting which had been placed in the tomb of a loyal worshipper of the goddess, showing a scene of the priest presiding over the festivities in his city. Mulder grinned. The Victorian archaeologist who had recorded the scene had been quite prudish about some of the inscriptions he had translated. Large sections were written in Latin to make their sexual references obscure to the uneducated reader.

But Mulder knew quite well what irrumator meant.

Alexandros had certainly known how to throw a party, if he had indulged in some of the acts described. Kneeling before him and worshipping took on a whole new meaning, as the high priest accepted homage to the goddess of love.

The picture of him showed a tall, green-eyed man, perhaps in his early twenties, with braided dark hair. Around his arms were the two serpentine bracelets Mulder had noticed earlier. In the tradition of Egyptian art, Alexandros was depicted as ithyphallic, his erect penis proudly displayed between the linen folds of his clothing. Obviously Alexandros took his duties very seriously.

Mulder shivered, and for a brief moment his vision blurred. It seemed, for a fraction of a second, as if the face in the book came alive. Handsome and inviting. Laughing and filled with a zest for life that made Mulder's dusty surroundings seem dull and barren. Mulder shook his head. Too much caffeine today.

Mulder hefted the two dusty old books and lugged them back to his office, from the basement library store. The research had taken so long that it was nearly midnight. His was the only office light still burning in the deserted museum, so he was alone in the shadowed hallways which were filled with unnerving shapes, looming out of the shadows.

The last thing he expected to hear were voices

"Get that other damn bracelet. Now! That thing must be solid gold. It's worth a fortune."

A second voice replied.

"Maybe we ought to rip these wrappings off, I've heard they used to hide all sorts of gold objects in the bandages!"

Mulder had frozen at the sounds. And with a growing sense of outrage, he realized that the intruders had found Alexandros. Even as he stood in frozen indecision, one of the men let out a sudden yell.

"Look at this gold necklace! I think I'll just......"

Then came the most blood-curdling scream he had ever heard.

He rushed toward the horrible sounds, stumbling over a discarded book as he went. He caught himself on a looming bookcase and hurried on. He was so determined to reach the melee in the display room that he didn't see the large man who barreled into him. He was knocked back as the frightened man ran him down. He slammed back into the bookcase and he felt an instant of exploding pain in his head before blackness consumed him.

He awoke to silence marred only by the steady ticking of a clock. He was lying on the small couch in his office, a pillow from the nearby chair under his head, and a blanket lain over him. The sliding doors that led to the larger display room, of finds that he was working on, were open. He sat up with a groan, holding his head and blinking in confusion. He gasped as he remembered the thieves. He jumped up and raced into the display room. Breathlessly, he skidded to a stop at the mummy's side. Everything seemed to be as it should have been. The mummy was undisturbed, laying still in its repose of millennia. He reached up to adjust his glasses and found that they were missing. With a small sigh he reached out to touch the gold armbands on Alexandros' arms. Both there. Hadn't the thieves said something resembling, '...take the other one?' As if one had been removed already? He looked about him and saw no sign of the men. He wriggled his toes and gasped again. His shoes were off! He shook his head. He must have imagined it. He had little sleep and too much caffeine. Pursing his full lips he considered the mummy. Carefully he reached to remove an armband.

He held it up to the light.

"It is the same," he whispered. In the picture of Alexandros the armbands were carefully detailed.

"Amazing." He took the bracelet with him to the rows of books in the library down the hall, forgetting to put on his shoes. The book he had tripped over was still on the floor and that distracted him for a moment. He swallowed nervously and quickly grabbed the book in which he'd found the information about the High priest. As he flipped to the page where the lovely picture resided with one hand, he brought the golden band up to his face with the other, without thinking rubbing the cool metal on his cheek. He walked back to the display room and set the book on a table next to the mummy and stared at the picture for several minutes. The artist had painted Alexandros' eyes a vivid green. He caressed the face of the beautiful priest with dreamy awe. He was so lovely, so beautiful.

"Are you my gift from my Goddess?" The words came as if from a dream.

"What a loyal follower she must deem me, for you are a beauty."

"What," Mulder whispered in the quiet of the museum. It was as if he could actually hear the words coming from the page. As if he could see the burning jade eyes looking him over with obvious appreciation. The sensation of kneeling at the feet of the priest was overwhelming. The armband in his hand was hot suddenly and he gasped, finding it at his lips.

"Sleep, need sleep," he mumbled frantically. He turned back to the mummy and with more care than he would have thought possible he replaced it on the brittle arm.

"Fell and hit my head... not enough sleep and too much coffee," he consoled himself. He moved to the opposite side of the table, patting his pockets to try and find his missing glasses. He cried out as he tripped over something rigid and large. He fell atop the corpse and his wide hazel eyes were inches from the wide brown of the dead man's. The look of terror in those frozen eyes equaled his and he scrambled off the corpse only to fall again, landing with a thud on his ass. Blood pooled blackly around the corpse, the gleam of bone peering out from the ruined chest.

"Oh my God," he whispered.


Mulder was kept by the detectives from the police department for over three hours, trying to explain the events of the night before and looking at a series of mug shots. He had predictably failed to identify the man he had seen rushing out of his office. Who surely must be the murderer. That was the official theory. That there had been a falling out of thieves, and the man who had knocked out Mulder had attacked his companion. Mulder hadn't dared mention how someone seemed to have tended to him while he was unconscious.

By the end of the interrogation, he was so exhausted that he was seeing double. It must have been obvious to the officers because he was allowed to go after that.

Within minutes of returning home, he was curled up on his bed and sinking into a long needed sleep. At first, he was too deeply asleep to dream, but by slow degrees, he drifted into one. It was as if he was floating in a timeless gray void, but gradually, he became aware that he was in fact walking through a vast, echoing hall its ceiling lost in shadow. On either side of him, huge, lotus-stalk shaped columns stretched upwards, forming an avenue that led him forward. He dimly recognized the classic layout of an Egyptian temple. He must be in the outer hall now; the holy of holies, the inner sanctum was somewhere ahead of him.

Curious now, he walked towards it, his knowledge of Egyptian archaeology helping to orient him. Soon, the way narrowed and became a corridor. Shimmering silk curtains, fluttered in the slight breeze, and concealed the gray stone walls. He had visited the remains of many temples in the past, but he had never seen the rooms so obviously inhabited before. Fine knotted rugs were soft beneath his bare feet, and a glow of torchlight up ahead told him that he had reached the inner sanctum.

He found himself hesitating, uncertain. The dream was one of the most vivid he had ever experienced. A little unnerving. But he was pulled onwards after a few moments, by a compulsion he didn't understand. Finally, he stood in the doorway of the sanctuary.

Beautiful green eyes fringed in kohl! That was his first impression of the High Priest. Who else but Alexandros!

Some part of his mind wasn't surprised. After all, hadn't he been preoccupied with this man today. At the foot of a huge basalt statue of his goddess, the High Priest was reclining on a couch draped in rare and costly fabrics, and wore only a fine linen kilt embroidered with spun gold. His skin was tawny and glowed with a golden sheen in the flickering torchlight. The golden serpent bracelets encircled his wrists and the amulet was a glittering presence at his throat.

"My precious jewel," he purred to Mulder.

"So you've finally found me!"

Mulder stared, silent, awed by the priest's beauty. He finally realized that the priest had spoken.

"Are you... are you talking to me?" he whispered. Never in his life had anyone so beautiful even looked at him let alone spoken to him. And why would they? He was a bookworm, completely engrossed at first in schooling, and later, in his all-consuming passion for ancient Egypt, which had kept him in museums or on archaeological digs.

"Yes, my jewel, it has been so long," Alexandros purred. He waved his hand and Mulder knew he was to approach.

Even knowing this was a dream, Mulder felt his insides twist as he moved toward the reclining man. Glittering jade eyes, narrowed like a deceptively lazy cat watched him intently as he grew near enough to smell the musky scent of the priest.

"I... I am dreaming," Mulder insisted.

"Yes, just a dream, my treasure, but what a dream. Don't you want to kneel before me?"

Mulder swallowed. He had experienced the frequent fantasies men will of sex with strangers, but this dream was the most erotic he'd ever had. He swallowed and kneeled beside Alexandros.

"You're eyes have the same innocence... the same bewilderment, jewel, as the first time I saw you," Alexandros purred as he stroked Mulder's cheek.

"The lips so ripe, made for pleasuring me. Just me."

Mulder gasped as one thumb lightly stroked his lip. His eyes were drawn to the priest's.

"You have found me at last and this time I will never let you go." Alexandros' eyes burned with some remembered fury and the pupils became elongated slits, like a snake's or a cat's.

"I will never let you be taken from me again."

Mulder rubbed his face into the hand that stroked him still, knowing somehow that this touch was familiar.

"I have looked for you all my life haven't I?" The words startled him for their clarity.

"Love never dies, jewel, not even when all the stars cease to burn. I have waited for you that long. You can awaken me, it is the promise of Bastet," Alexandros said gently.

"Don't be afraid."

Mulder watched as Alexandros' mouth lowered to his own and his lips parted in moist anticipation.

The insistent alarm startled him awake and turned it off with a curse. For the first time in his twenty-six years he had known what the words falling instantly in love really meant. He groaned and covered his eyes.

"It was a dream you pervert! Just a damn dream. No one would love you like that. Especially not someone like that!"


When Mulder arrived at work the next morning, he could tell immediately from the curious stares directed in his direction that the story of last night's events had circulated. One or two people asked him how he was feeling, but the majority seemed content to gossip in little groups and study him as if he were some interesting lower form of life. Welcome to the backbiting world of academia. Well at least they weren't blaming him for the murder. Yet. He wondered who had actually done the deed. For some reason, he found it hard to connect such a brutal act with the briefly glimpsed thief he had seen fleeing the scene. The guy had looked so panicked, terrified even, as if all the demons of hell were after him. He hadn't even noticed Mulder, despite colliding with him. Mulder sighed. It wasn't likely that he would ever know the truth.

His assistant Marta was so overly solicitous that he felt quite uncomfortable, when he reached his office at last. He finally asked her to find a huge pile of obscure reference books, just so he could have some time on his own. Yet when he eventually did have solitude, he found that it was almost unbearable.

It wasn't just the murder, the evidence of which could still be seen in the white chalk outline on the floor. It was last night's dream, too. When had he become so very lonely? How long had it been since he had even gone out to lunch with someone, let alone had a close relationship? Actually, that was easy to answer. Last Christmas, when he and his colleagues had a group booking at an Italian restaurant. Hardly an exciting love life.


Part 2

Without realizing it, he had risen from his desk, and now he found himself standing beside the open mummy case. He stared into it, at the still-recognizable features of the High Priest. He could barely suppress the urge to kneel, even seeing the reality instead of the dream. It was crazy, he thought, that the only halfway decent offer he had received in over a year was from a long dead man in a dream. His hand reached out, trembling slightly, and touched the dry, withered hand.

If only dreams came true......

Marta bustled in, weighted down by the large tomes she carried. Mulder hastily swiped at the suspicious moisture at the corner of his eye, and gently removed the gold bracelet Alexandros was wearing, so she wouldn't think he had been doing anything odd.

In truth, it was the first time he had been able to examine one. How he had overlooked the beautiful ornaments before, he wasn't certain. Perhaps they had been hidden under the folds of the linen bandages, and Marta had dislodged the fragile coverings. Marta smiled distractedly at him and went to search out the rest of his books.

Alexandros had worn this

Irresistibly he slipped it on. It was like a gilded snake coiling round his arm. And he reflected for a moment how much better it had appeared next to golden skin. The workmanship was stunning. Surely the work of a master craftsman. But of course the Egyptians would give only the best to one of their most loved of goddesses. And only the best of men would be allowed in her presence.

He desperately needed a shot of caffeine. Maybe that would make him feel better. He pulled off the bracelet, intending to study its carved inscriptions later. And perhaps because of his lingering fatigue, or more likely, because he was simply distracted, he dropped it.

With a metallic clatter, the bracelet fell onto the tiled floor and broke in two!

Appalled at his carelessness, Mulder dropped to his knees to retrieve the two halves of the object. He felt as though he had committed sacrilege.

It was then that he realized that it was in fact hollow. Inside the spiraling tube that formed the body of the snake was a small coiled section of papyrus. Awed, Mulder began to unroll this tangible link that had linked him to the mind of the High Priest Alexandros. Words were written in Hieratic script on the ancient scroll. Mulder automatically translated the words.

Spell of bringing life to the servant of Bastet........

And with a curious sense of inevitability, he began to read, intrigued.

A spell? He took the delicate fabric to his office and sat down to read it. Automatically translating it into his notebook. There were detailed descriptions of how to set up the required ceremonial accoutrements: various spices placed in earthen jars forged by fire; candles to be placed carefully, incense of honeysuckle, musk and myrrh; sands from the drifts of the Pharaohs to be sprinkled in a circle around the servant of Bast; blood of the loved to be given willingly, three drops over the heart; incantations to be recited by the loved one alone during the festival of Bast, and one human sacrifice to be taken before the ceremony and offered to the servant in the presence of the loved one.

Mulder swallowed hard. Though there were countless similar myths of eternal life in the tombs of ancient Egyptians, this somehow rang true with him. He could smell the incense, as it must have burned in Bastet's temple. The sounds of sex and lust as she was worshipped. He shook his head in denial. "This is just another fairytale!" He looked around his sane office, the clutter, the anchor of his life, his work. It all seemed irrelevant somehow. It was as if he had been asleep all his life... waiting for this to happen. Setting the ancient writing on his desk with careful, trembling hands, he stood. He made his way to the display room where the mummy lay still. He approached Alexandros and placed one hand on the space above where the heart had been. He knew that internal organs were removed during the mummification process, the body cavity then filled with flowers and spices and sometimes scrolls or other treasures. He should have already cut open the body to investigate the contents, but he was reluctant to do so. Instead he took the second armband off, slowly and with utter care. He saw that it was solid, the jeweled eyes of the serpent reflecting no light.

"When is the festival of Bastet?" he asked himself.

"What was that?' Marta asked coming up behind him.

"Oh, Marta, you startled me," Mulder sighed.

"I was wondering when the festival of Bastet was. It hasn't been performed in centuries."

"Bastet, the goddess of love?" Marta asked.

"Yes... you wouldn't by chance know anything about the religion surrounding her, would you?"

"I don't, but you know, it is the strangest thing," she mused, her eyes fixed on some distant spot above them.

"I had a dream last night... the strangest dream I can ever recall... quite colorful," her voice faded, as she seemed lost in thought.

A chill inched its way along Mulder's spine, raising the hairs on the nape of his neck.

"Was it of an Egyptian priest... a beautiful man with the blackest hair and the greenest eyes?"

Marta shook her head.

"No, it was as if I were to do something... set freshly cut flowers at the feet of some statue... a statue of a goddess... how I knew that I don't know." She looked at Mulder.

"I knelt there at the feet of this statue and suddenly it came to life... not like a human, just that the statue breathed... Still stone and pale, but it breathed... Its eyes fell on me and I was terrified, but she spoke... to me."

Mulder wanted to run right then... just turn and flee, maybe take up another calling, door-to-door sales or something else rational and sane.

"I saw the stone lips move before I understood it was... she was speaking. You know the funny thing is, she spoke in some ancient tongue... and you know I have no gift for ancient dialects, but I understood."

"What... what did she say?"

"It made more sense in the dream you understand, but now it seems rather mundane. Something about the second moon...no, she said, 'When the second full moon in one month rises in the last year of the second new millennia, then shall rise the Servant of Bastet."

"Second full moon in a month? A blue moon?" Mulder mused.

"The last year of the second new millennia?" He looked at the preserved corpse. In ancient Egypt there would have been no concept of BC and A.D. But wasn't A.D. really the new millennia? If so, than the year in Marta's dream would be this year. He shivered. It was just a dream wasn't it?

"Then someone behind me said, 'The Goddess speaks,' I turned to find the room filled with... well frolicking, nude acolytes," Marta finished with a blush.


Mulder had researched the date of the festival thoroughly. Incredibly, the date on the manuscript was only a day away! Or hours depending on moon rise. It was highly probable that the blue moon would wax full sometime in the early morning hours. The coincidence was almost beyond belief. He felt as though his life was out of control. As if everything he had ever done was pointless and futile. Who was Alexandros, that he could dictate Mulder's life like this?

The most beautiful man he had ever seen......

He wasn't going to do it. No way! Human sacrifice....! That was so crazy!

My jewel....

He choked back a sob. He wasn't a killer. He couldn't do that. No matter how much he wanted Alexandros. With a heavy heart, he took one last lingering look at the mummy case, then headed away from the museum, towards a nearby bar. Maybe if he got drunk enough tonight, he wouldn't have to think about how empty his life was. He didn't see the brief gleam of green eyes in the darkest corner of the room. Or the shadow that detached itself from the darkness and moved forward into the center of the room.

The ghostly form of Alexandros stood still, watching as his chosen love departed. The transparent face showed both compassion and longing.

"You can't fight destiny, my love," he whispered, soft as a sigh.


After the fourth bourbon on the rocks, things were looking less problematic, Mulder thought. This had definitely been a good idea. Not that he made a habit of drinking to excess. But as a method of escaping his problems, it was very effective. He swigged back another shot and then another, and the loneliness receded satisfyingly. In fact, everything got delightfully fuzzy around the edges. So much so that the bartender refused to serve him another drink. He stood up unsteadily and headed home.

It was a cold night. Almost as cold as his bed, he mused sorrowfully. Swaying slightly, he found it helpful to try and walk down the center of the pavement. His mind filled with drunken concentration, he didn't notice the three shadowy forms moving towards him silently. Naively, he had forgotten how dangerous the streets of Washington could be after dark.

"What have we here? Fresh meat by the look of things!" The young man stepped out in front of the unsteady Mulder and smirked, his two companions moved out from either side of him in a flanking maneuver, leaving Mulder no avenue of escape.

It began to dawn on the young archaeologist that he was in trouble. He backed away from the thug, and suddenly there was a knife in the mugger's fist and the smirk had turned into an ugly smile. Mulder's own carelessness had brought him to this. The cold stone behind him as he backed up as far as he could would probably be the last thing he ever felt.

Something dark and snarling suddenly swirled into view between him and the muggers, something with teeth and claws, and luminous green eyes. Even as the foremost of the men opened his mouth to yell in alarm, it was upon him, ripping and tearing savagely in defense of Mulder. The other two men fled screaming into the night, as the creature vented its wrath on the no longer moving body of its kill.

Mulder fell to his knees, shaking in terror.

The dark form seemed to stretch and elongate, impossibly becoming human. He knew who it was now. He also knew what had happened to the thief in the museum. Alexandros may be a priest of the goddess of love, but he was well able to defend himself. It was easy to forget that Bastet was also the deity of the feline races, and as such, had a streak of the predatory.

Alexandros approached, for these few moments, as real as the dripping corpse at his feet.

"My love," he said gently. He leaned forward and kissed Fox Mulder. And despite the fear that still made the blood rush through his veins, Mulder surrendered to the kiss, tilting his head so that Alexandros' mouth could take possession of his, moaning helplessly as his body began to burn under the knowing caress that the High Priest trailed across his neck and chest.

But almost imperceptibly, Alexandros was beginning to fade, to lose solidity.

"No!" Mulder found himself begging hopelessly, desperate for more time with Alexandros. The priest smiled affectionately.

"You needed a sacrifice my love!" He pointed to the corpse that lay close to them.

"Take the heart and internal organs. Burn them to ash in the ceremony and my own heart and organs will be restored to me!" His voice grew increasingly faint.

"I love you......!"

Suddenly stone cold sober, Mulder stared at the spot where his love had been. Then with shaking hands, he bent to his grisly task.


It was a heavy, grisly burden that Mulder carried in his ruined coat. His pulse thrummed loudly as he brought the stolen organs in to his office. What in the hell was he doing? Taking organs from a dead man, carrying them back to his lair like some Mary Shelly character. He set the wet jacket on his desk and it slid open to reveal the glistening organs, and he turned quickly to vomit into his trashcan. The smell of recently imbued whiskey mingled with the sharp copper scent of the organs and he heaved again.

"I've gone mad," he whispered. Rising he took the trashcan to the bathroom and cleaned it out with hands that shook. He set it aside and stared at himself in the mirror, no longer recognizing himself. The man staring back at him had blood on his face and a wild light in his hazel eyes. When had he lost his mind? He splashed water on his face and paused with his head lowered. When he raised his eyes to the mirror once more, he knew something else. He would go forward and burn the organs... but only to destroy the evidence of his crime. Of course he hadn't killed the criminal, but he had desecrated his body. He couldn't think about it or he would be sick again.

Walking with brisk resolution, Mulder went into the display room. He avoided looking at Alexandros, instead he found two large, metal bowls and set them on the table. He took a deep breath and went to retrieve the organs. When he returned to the room he placed the heart in one bowl and the rest of the organs in the other. Once that was done he pondered how to start them burning. The whole thing was so unbelievable he wondered if just lighting a match would do the trick. He went in search of a book of matches, finding some in a colleague's office. When the matches were dropped into the bowls the flesh began to burn immediately. It was impossible, he knew, but it didn't surprise him. As the flesh burned he set off to clean up the mess. He even went so far as to verify that no blood drops led to the museum. He only walked about a block from the museum's back door, but could see no guilty blood drops. He hurried back inside to find the organs had burned down to a strange black ash.

"Here we go, Fox," he told himself. He grabbed the first bowl, using his bloody jacket to protect from the heat, he'd have to burn the jacket next.


Mulder woke from an uneasy sleep, not sure what had disturbed him. The morning light had yet to make an appearance and he guessed it to be almost four in the morning. The moon, the blue moon would still be in the sky. He groaned as pain stabbed into his head, a reminder of his overindulgence the night before. At some point, last night his abused system had given up in disgust, which was how he had come to be sleeping in his office, head on his desk, in his clothes.

At least, some of his clothes! His jacket and shirt appeared to be missing, and his pants looked none too clean. Then the full memory of his actions returned. With a shiver, he stared at the no longer benign wooden form of Alexandros' coffin.

What was he going to do? He was more or less committed to performing the ceremony now, but he felt as though he were being swept along in a raging torrent, barely able to keep his head above water. But Alexandros needed him.

There were still preparations to be made. Half-longing, half-afraid, he began to gather the supplies he needed, incense and sand. He would do it now, before he lost the last of his courage. Call up the long dead shade of a forgotten priest. Hoping that the moon would stay up until he had completed that which he felt compelled to do. This was his one and only chance of happiness. What had he got to lose?

Fearfully, he lit the incense and began the incantation. A small letter opener served to cut his hand, and the required drops of blood fell onto the mummy. The sand encircled the coffin. The sound of a rattling sistrum echoed through the deserted halls of the museum.

The ceremony completed, Mulder waited with bated breath....... When would the mummy come to life again? He stood for over an hour by its side, waiting to render assistance to the risen form of his love.

And waited........

And waited........

With a small sigh, the mummy sank in on itself and crumbled into dust, as whatever spell had preserved it was dissolved.

Mulder fell to his knees with a sob.

How stupid he had been. Falling for a mad, crazy dream. Getting involved in god knows what dark business. Best to try and ignore his momentary aberration. It was just temporary insanity. There had never really been a long dead shade wanting to love him!

He just couldn't remember when he had turned the corner into insanity.

Marta was astonished to find Mulder in his office already when she arrived at eight thirty, looking depressed and tired. He was not normally in evidence before ten at the earliest. He made the effort to behave normally. The charred evidence of his grisly night's work had long since been cleared away. And a hasty change of clothes found. Jeans and a too-tight T-shirt.

With relief, he realized that he had gotten away with it. No one knew what he had done. He began to relax, and drowsed pleasantly in his quiet office, dreaming sadly of a green-eyed lover drifting with him in a felucca along the Nile.

"Fox Mulder?"

Mulder jerked awake as the voice intruded into his daydream.

"F.B.I. We want to ask you some questions about a murder that was committed in downtown Washington last night. The younger of the two F.B.I. agents addressed him.

"We found your wallet close to the scene and we wonder if you can account for your movements last night?"

With a faint smile, the green-eyed agent let his gaze wander appreciatively over Mulder's body, lingering on the suddenly prominent peaks of Mulder's nipples.

"I know you, don't I?" he asked, puzzled.

"I'm sure we've met somewhere, but I can't quite remember......."

Mulder could only stare back at the beautiful agent who was the living image of Alexandros. For a brief instant, something catlike and secretive seemed to gleam in the emerald eyes, then the agent held out a hand.

"I'm Krycek. Agent Alex Krycek."

"FBI?" Mulder managed to say while staring in shock at the young agent.

"Yes, FBI," Krycek repeated. He was staring at Mulder with a strange expression, as if he were trying to figure out where he had seen him before.

"Wait, you said you found my wallet?" Mulder asked. He was thinking desperately.

"I was at a bar last night... I'm afraid I got a little inebriated... I just realized that I didn't have my wallet... I thought I lost it somewhere in my... in my office." He didn't want them to ask him why, if he had his wallet stolen, hadn't he reported it.

"You found it near a crime scene?"

"Yes," the other agent said.

"What time did you lose your wallet, sir?" he asked, he dark eyes boring suspiciously into Mulder's.

"Excuse me, but am I under some suspicion?" Mulder asked with a touch of ire in his voice.

"No, Professor Mulder, we are just following any lead possible. The murder was particularly brutal," Agent Krycek assured him. He looked away from the wonderfully pretty professor, trying to control his sudden urge to taste those full lips, to see if they were as soft as they looked.

"I don't really remember much... I know I was at the bar... I left... and I woke up here in my office."

"So you don't even remember getting home?" the older agent asked with disdain.

"Excuse me, but why is the FBI investigating a murder? Isn't that a little out of your jurisdiction?" Mulder asked with no ire, just confusion. He watched as Agent Krycek walked toward the coffin.

"We are investigating it because we were asked to," Agent Krycek replied as he stopped at Alexandros' coffin.

"Well, as I said, I don't know anything about a murder," Mulder said tiredly. He followed the young agent and stood at his side.

"Was this a mummy?" Krycek asked with a little boy's excitement.

"Krycek, we really need to get..."

"Just a few moments, Dooley. Why don't you go to the victim's home? I'll stay here and question Professor Mulder." He locked gazes with Mulder and the jade eyes were masked. A shiver of excitement ran down his spine as he looked into those wide, hazel eyes. He had the urge to take off the wire-rimmed glasses, rip off the sexy T-shirt, run his hands through the glossy brown hair. To taste his flesh! He heard his partner agree but didn't hear him leave. He was too engrossed in the professor. He felt the heat of an intense blush cover his face. He looked away quickly.

"So? Was it?"

Mulder couldn't understand what was going on, was this his dream lover or wasn't it? He seemed like a green cop, just out of college, he was blushing too! "Uh, yes it was...it was more fragile than I thought." He reached into the coffin and touched the fine dust.

"He was a priest in ancient Egypt."

"Oh. So... do you... that is... so you can't remember anything about last night? Any odd sounds as you walked home?"

"I don't even know that I walked home," Mulder lied, his face flaming red with shame for his lies.

"I see," Krycek murmured, oddly fascinated by Mulder's hand tracing through the fine dust in what was almost a sensual caress.

"Do you know anything about Egypt?" Mulder asked breathlessly, hoping that this Krycek would suddenly admit that he knew more than he pretended.

"Yeah, just the basics though... I'm no professor," Krycek admitted, his eyes flickering admiringly toward Mulder. He accidentally knocked over an earthen bowl and it shattered on the tile floor. He jumped back and immediately bent to pick up the shattered pieces, noting the residual dust within them.

"I'm so sorry..."

"Oh, no don't... just leave that there... it's all right," Mulder was sure the agent would know what he had used the bowls for and he bent next to Krycek trying to take the pieces away from him. Their heads bumped and Krycek grabbed him to keep him from falling backwards. Their eyes met, their faces inches from one another.

Krycek watched helplessly as the professor's beautiful, ripe mouth parted with the shock of their nearness. He felt his blush covering his face again and he closed his eyes, only to have them spring open again as he felt the soft touch of the professor's mouth on his.

"Alex," Mulder whispered. He was lost somewhere between the dream of the sensual, knowing priest and the blushing, young agent. Both so beautiful that it hurt to look... hurt more to not touch. He kissed the perfect lips and for one instant he knew this was the man he was waiting for, but almost immediately he pulled away. What was he doing? Krycek was a beauty. Why would he even look twice at some dusty professor? Granted Mulder wasn't much older than Krycek, but he felt centuries older. He gaped at the stunned man, not knowing what to say... how to apologize. His unruly body strained in hot anticipation for the pleasure awaiting in the muscular body kneeling next to him, but he tried to quell the rushing heat, his erection a guilty bulge in his trousers.


Alex Krycek was totally confused by what had just happened. He had let a murder suspect kiss him in the course of an interview and instead of decking Professor Mulder, he had been as confused and tongue-tied as a rookie agent, though he had been out of Quantico for over a year now. His hasty departure from the small, dusty office had left him feeling utterly humiliated. He hadn't been able to get away from Professor Mulder fast enough. Not because he was repulsed, but because, for a moment, he had felt a strange giddiness, and an urge to pull Mulder down against him and...... and........

And rub himself like a cat against Mulder's all too obvious erection.

He had taken the coward's way out and fled the scene, before he could act upon the strange urge. Unfortunately, in his haste, he had taken the wrong turning in the maze of narrow corridors. He was totally lost in one of the biggest museums in the world, which had more than two million items in storage. Cursing at his own stupidity, he began to search for the way out.

After half an hour of fruitless wandering, and at least three shin bruises from the corners of carelessly stacked packing cases, he was beginning to think he would never get out of there. He grimly continued, determined not to face the humiliation of calling on his cellphone for help. Then he turned a corner and saw an open door to his left, beyond which was a huge room filled with Egyptian antiquities in various stages of restoration. He was about to pass by, but then something caught his eye. Almost instinctively, he moved forward until he was standing before the tall statue. It was stunning, even half-encased in plastic. A cat-headed woman carved out of some sort of green stone, probably some sort of Egyptian deity, if he remembered rightly. He walked up to it. There was something so very familiar about that serene visage. The dizziness that hit him caught him totally by surprise. Then words seemed to echo inside his head

"You have returned to me, my son."

And he saw the statue move, its head inclining downwards as it gazed at him with amused benevolence. A divine hand moving, beckoning him to come and worship. He fell automatically to his knees, whimpering in fear. Tender laughter echoed around him, and jewel-bright feline eyes seemed to expand in his vision until they filled the whole of his awareness.


Part 3

Mulder had spent most of the afternoon since the beautiful agent had left cursing himself roundly. How could he have been so very stupid? He tried to occupy himself with his studies, but it was useless. The memory of a pair of green eyes and the soft, yielding lips beneath his kept distracting him. Finally at six o'clock, he decided to call it a day and head home.

The phone on his desk rang just as he was about to leave.

"Professor Mulder, this is Agent Dooley. You may remember our visit this afternoon. I want to know what time Agent Krycek left the museum this afternoon. He seems to have disappeared!"

"Er... About one thirty," Mulder replied.

"Thanks. If he gets in contact with you, tell him to call me." The agent rang off. Mulder stared in alarm at the handset. Where was the spellbinding Agent Krycek? Then a thought occurred to him. Three or four times a year, visitors got lost in the almost two miles of corridors down in the depths of the museum. It only took a couple of wrong turns. He set off to check out the more obvious areas.

Mulder felt inordinately protective of the young agent. It was highly unlikely that Krycek was frightened by being lost, if indeed he were lost, but Mulder didn't want the pretty man to be anxious at all. He started to follow a path that Krycek may have taken, hurrying through the narrow corridors calling out his name.


Alex felt the cool touch of the statues hand on his face. Feline eyes burned into his and he trembled.

"What... what are you?" he whispered.

"Remember me, my Priest, remember it all," Bast purred, stroking the familiar face.

Alex shook as he was suddenly transported to another place, another time. He stood high on a dais watching as hundreds of revelers danced and copulated to thrumming music. A man kneeled at his feet, his wet mouth working at Alex's cock, a look of reverent worship on his face as he looked up into Alex's eyes. The pleasure was intense, but he moved back from the clasping heat, knowing that there were others eager to show him their devotion. The man whimpered in disappointment, but Alex simply stared at the next acolyte who fell to his knees eagerly, opening his mouth greedily to receive the priest's cock in his mouth.

Time seemed to speed up dizzyingly, ceremonies, worship, feasts, and sacrifices until Alex cried out and time stilled once more. Another scene.

Alex stared at himself in a glossy metal mirror. He was amazed at some level at his appearance, but as a mere watcher in this time he could sense his pride in his looks. The green eyes lined with black kohl, the glossy black hair braided in hundreds of tight lengths. Erect nipples revealed by the loose silk robe, stomach hard and muscled. He ran a hand down his belly, smiling as perfumed and pampered slaves prepared his bath.

The same dizzy travel and then another scene.

He was sitting at a long banquet table eating the food, sumptuous and plentiful, but not tasting it. He was bored, utterly bored. His guests were beautiful, wealthy, carnal, but they bored him. The eager hands and sexy bodies of his favorite slaves disinterested him. He sat back and sipped sweet wine from a goblet wondering what his Goddess had meant when she had promised him a treasure, a jewel, one that he would value above all things. He waved away a pretty male who would have settled into his lap.

Dizzy again Alex sat enfolded in the stone arms of the goddess. Another scene.

He watched as the faithful brought in the gifts from a foreign king. Interested in the array of precious treasures, the priest searched for the jewel that Bast had promised him. He froze as someone moved toward him, the voice of his attendant introducing the third son of the foreign king, come to bring his father's words of praise. He raised his eyes and looked into the face of love. Such beauty, but not merely physical. Innocence and wonder in such beautiful eyes, eyes whose colors of amber and fern warred with each other for dominance. The priest rose, his heart beating unnaturally fast. The beauty spoke, the words accented by a foreign tongue and the voice delicious like honey. Full lips that were made for love, ripe and sweet, moved, but Alexandros could not hear anything save the way the voice melted over him, enchanting him.

Another space of time that flew by, shorter than before. The agent's head lolled back on his shoulders as his past was revealed in that dizzy speed. Another scene and this time the agent's body trembled with desire.

He could hear his lover's even breathing and he reflected on the evening that had seen this beauty, Fox, in his arms.

"Fox," he breathed, the breeze from the open windows came in and teased at the silky brown hair on Fox's head. "My precious jewel," he sighed. He was the High Priest and yet he had seduced this man with something akin to desperation, as if the mere thought of losing this lovely creature was unutterable. He moved a muscled thigh from where it rested between his lover's. He bent to kiss the little mole that settled in so sweetly near the pouting lips.

"I will treasure you forever. I cannot let you leave." The priest stared out at the full moon that hung so low in the sky.

Fox was supposed to leave with his father's men on the morrow, but Alexandros would never let it happen. He would flee with his lover if he must. He settled in against the velvet warmth and his body hardened, wanting to plunder once more, the sweet, hot depths. Fox sighed in his sleep and rubbed his rounded buttocks up against Alexandros' burgeoning erection reflexively. Black braids fell over the muscled shoulder of his sleeping lover as Alexandros bent to lick the tender flesh of Fox's collarbone. The priest smiled as he imagined the two of them as normal people, no ceremonies, no distractions, just the two of them... farming maybe. Their lives stretched out before them with splendid possibilities and Alexandros felt free.

He thought again of how he had first seen Fox, standing in respectful silence, while unending questions threaten to burst from his tempting lips. He smiled happily as he let his mind wander to the first private moment he had taken with Fox. When he had invited the young prince to join him beside the River Nile. The temple's marble steps went down into the waters of the river and the priest had invited Fox to swim with him.


Mulder was beginning to think that he was mistaken. Though he had searched and called out Agent Krycek's name for more than an hour, he had found no trace of the beautiful agent. He was increasingly worried. Surely Krycek must be here. He would never be able to rest until he knew the agent was safe.

A flicker of light suddenly caught his eye. He was in one of the oldest parts of the museum now, a part of the underground storage rooms that rarely saw visitors. There should be nothing there to cause a light, in the darkness beyond the thin strip light along the corridor. He followed the light and realized he was in Egyptian store #13.

Then he saw Alex Krycek.

The young agent was curled up on the floor in a fetal position, apparently unconscious, and as naked as the day he was born. Mulder felt his heart miss a beat. Was the agent dead? But no, he was still breathing. Mulder could see the slow rise and fall of his chest. Then he found his gaze straying irresistibly over the sleek body, the long limbs, the firm ass......

Alex moaned softly, and hugged himself, as if dreaming. And somehow Mulder was on his knees next to the agent, reaching out to touch him. Alex should have been cold, in the chilly underground room, but instead he was as hot as if he walked under the burning desert sun.

There was a soft sound of feminine laughter. Startled, Mulder looked up, and realized exactly what statue he was kneeling in front of. Whose living green eyes were even now watching him with a more than human amusement. And suddenly he was somewhere else entirely.


Laughing, he dived under the water, swimming strongly towards the breathtakingly attractive high priest who had so honored him with this invitation. The first time he had set eyes on Alexandros, he had fallen in love with the high priest. But as a younger son of his family, he would never have dared to offer himself to such a powerful man. Only the very highest men in the land were worthy to share the bed of the servant of Bastet. And yet, incredibly, the goddess had seen fit to turn the eyes of Alexandros towards him in desire. He only hoped he would prove worthy of the honor.

When Alexandros had invited him to his private residence, Fox had expected to perform the usual act of worship that was known to be Alexandros' favorite. It would be the first time he had done such a thing himself, though one of his father's slaves had regularly served him with mouth and tongue. Yet instead of remaining aloof, Alexandros had welcomed him like a brother, had served him food with his own hands, and had invited him to swim, with laughter in his eyes. And he had discovered that the high priest loved to tease.

Surfacing from the blue waters of the Nile, he found himself within an arm's length of his handsome companion. Alexandros splashed him with water, and chuckling, turned to swim away. Without thinking, he reached out to catch the other, their bodies slid together in the warm water. Fox froze, and found himself gazing into the greenest eyes in creation, and he blushed shyly. Then Alexandros kissed him. Expert, and demanding a response. Fox found himself pressing hard against his companion, yearning for the feel of skin against golden skin under the hot sun.

Alexandros drew back and surveyed the face of the dark-haired, young prince. How delightful he was. Truly a jewel. Alexandros would honor the goddess with the ardor of his lovemaking today. And if his offering proved acceptable, she would reward him by giving him the strength and endurance to take his Fox over and over again. But then, she showed her favor towards him in so many ways already. Had she not given him Fox? And had he not been chosen as high priest because of her generosity in all things when she had created his body?

Fox was sleek and beautiful, his skin tanned by the hot sun and his long hair clinging like a curtain to his wet skin. His well-made body was a delight to watch, as the young man besported himself in the river. Alexandros felt himself growing hard and sighed in pleasurable anticipation. Fox was so innocent in the arts of love that he had no idea what an effect he had on the high priest. So different, in his naivete from the sycophantic worshippers who usually filled the temple. Men and women who thought they could improve their skills or the endowment of their bodies by pleasing him.

He dived under the water and surfaced before Fox, letting their bodies slide together in the slickness of the water. Their legs entangled, and Fox cried out with delight at the size of the goddess-gift Alexandros sported. Awed, he instinctively rubbed against it, and was astonished at the way the high priest moaned and writhed against him, reveling in his Fox's instinctive sensuality. Ahhh, the beautiful prince would have made a good priest of Bastet himself.

Within moments, the goddess had similarly gifted the young prince with her sexual bounty, and the two men rubbed their bodies together in increasing frenzy, holding on to each other tightly in the flowing water.

Alexandros felt himself rapidly becoming lost in the heat of desire that the prince's actions were generating. With an immense effort, he pushed Fox away from him. The prince whimpered.

"Please, my lord......."

Alexandros ignored the delightful pleas, and careful not to inflame the prince further, drew Fox with him towards the shore.

Laughing in amused tolerance at Fox's downcast face, he soon made his intentions clear, pushing Fox down before him on the sand, so that the prince was on his hands and knees, ready for Alexandros to take his pleasure.

Fox's misery had soon turned to delight, when he realized that Alexandros wasn't rejecting him. He wiggled his rear enticingly at the high priest, and his invitation was accepted almost immediately. Alexandros knelt behind him, after a moment's admiration of the delightful contours of Fox's body, beaded still with droplets of water. Then he gently began to tease open his lover's tightness, relishing the way the prince cried out in pleasure and pushed back against him. With a sigh, he buried himself deep inside Fox, clasping him close. Their bodies fitted together as if they had been joined for eternity, and they moved against each other in one of the oldest rhythms in the world.

Even Alexandros, the goddess' own servant, couldn't maintain such ecstasy for long, as he and Fox made love. With a moan of regret that it had to end, Alexandros released his essence into his lover's sweet body. And it was then that Bastet gave him the greatest gift of all. She granted the two of them one of her rarest honors. She allowed the prince to come to release simultaneously with her priest. Fox cried out and discharged his seed in shuddering bursts to the holy sand that the gods of the River Nile gifted to Egypt. Even as the great god Ra had fertilized the earth by spilling his own seed across the land in the Egyptian legends of creation.

They lay on the sand, wrapped in each other's arms savoring their togetherness. And within a short time, Alexandros found himself once again blessed by the bountiful goddess. This time, he chose to ride atop Fox, between the young prince's eagerly parted thighs, lifting Fox slightly so that he could slide into him whilst marveling at the tenderness and love reflected in the brown eyes. Though it was not yet spoken of between them.

They were already of one heart.

Fox came, screaming, his body arching wildly upwards as he clung to his lover, as Alexandros powered into him. The other man moaned, as Fox's body contracted powerfully around him. The clasping velvet heat surrounding him once again became too much, and with a cry, he released his own seed into his lover's hot depths. Even as the god Set had done to Horus in the beginning of the world. So it was whispered, though many priests denied that version of the story.

With a sigh of pleasure, and a prayer of thanks to the goddess of love for her generosity, he sank into the welcoming arms of the man beneath him. He felt the wetness of Fox's seed against his belly, as they lay in the warm sun, but felt no desire to withdraw from Fox's sweet body just yet. This closeness was so very good, and so unusual in his life, and no one would dare interrupt the divine acts of worship of the high priest.

Fox too sighed in pleasure, and was more than content to have his lover in his arms, a warm and comfortable weight above him as he lay on the soft sand of the riverbank.

And yet.....

He wasn't on soft sand any longer. He could feel cool concrete below him, and he wasn't in the warm sun now, but in the dark and dusty basement of the museum, before an all too familiar statue. He was once more Fox Mulder, and he was lying on his back with his legs spread wide. The warm weight on top of him, still inside him, resolved itself into the attractive personage of Agent Krycek.

The young agent snuggled into his arms with a sleepy murmur of pleasure, then his body suddenly stilled. Alex Krycek's head lifted abruptly from its comfortable resting place, and Mulder found himself the object of the young agent's horrified gaze, as Alex realized exactly where he was and what he was doing.

Mulder could have sworn he heard distant, faintly mischievous, feminine laughter.

Alex Krycek was deep inside him, his pretty green eyes staring wide and shocked above him. Mulder moved slightly, just to feel that incredible friction once more and the young agent flushed further as his body responded to the tight slide.

"Profess... professor Mulder, I am so sorry... I... ohh..." His voice sounded strained as Mulder moved again. "We really shouldn't... we... uhhh... God you feel so good," he moaned.

Mulder flushed red too, but he wanted more.

"Did you... did you think... please move..."

"Oh, I'm sorry, so sorry," Alex babbled as he immediately tried to pull out and off of the professor only to be grabbed by strong hands, holding him tight, almost as tight as the velvet heat of the pretty professor's ass.

"No, don't move that way," Mulder surprised himself by demanding.

"Move in me." Both men were bright red with embarrassment, but Krycek pushed back in decisively and they both groaned in pleasure.

"Like that?" The agent whispered breathlessly.

"Oh, yes. Did you think... that is... right there... did you think we were in a river... at some temple?" Mulder closed his eyes in pleasure as the agent moved in and out slowly. He missed the confused look on the pretty face and wound his legs about the slim hips.

Alex was astounded... it hadn't been a dream, he knew that, but that the young professor had experienced it too... had really been there.

"You were a prince and I was a priest... to her," he groaned motioning to the stone goddess. He groaned again as those lovely hazel eyes opened to look at the statue.

"Yes. That's it... we were lovers... what is happening? To us I mean," his voice was coming in panting gasps.

"Whatever it is, I like it," Alex growled, thrusting harder.

"That is, if you like it, Professor."

"Fox," Mulder moaned, meeting the thick thrusts with eager hips. He felt so good, so incredible, like he was flying.

"What?" Alex began to thrust faster and harder, bending to capture that sinfully delicious mouth in a passionate kiss.

"My name, it's Fox," Mulder breathed into the hot, sweet mouth that was so hotly pressed to his.

"You are a fox, you are so beautiful, Fox... so tight.... I can't... I can't... oh God, come with me... please... come..."

The pleasure was so intense that Mulder tossed his head, grinding his cock up against the hard stomach pressing into him, feeling his ass stretch and grasp at the hard cock inside him. Alex buried his face in Mulder's neck, sucking on the flesh there with rapacious intensity.

"Please come, Fox, please... I can't stop," he begged, his body spasming. When he felt the incredible clench of Fox's sheath and the hot splash of cum on his stomach he threw his head back and screamed as he came. In the intensity of the moment he felt himself shift somehow, his vision sharpened incredibly and he felt a rush of possessive emotion as he stared down at Fox. All mine, he thought. Again, all mine. He kissed the parted lips with such gentleness, half-afraid he would disappear.

"I've waited all my life for you, Fox. I can't explain why, but I know that I have."

Mulder nodded, raising a hand to push back a stray lock of hair out of Alex's eyes. They were so like those of Alexandros' in his dreams, but this Alex was all his, alive not a ghost. Had he summoned this man somehow with the ceremony, or was it some crazy coincidence? "I know what you mean... I have never felt this way before."

"What are we going to do?" Alex whispered as he looked about them. The statue was merely stone again, the eyes merely gems, not living fire.

"I mean... Fox, you are a suspect."

"What? I told you..."

"The wallet wasn't just found at the scene... it was... well it was inside the body... like it was dropped in there... and then there is the thief found dead here... killed in the same way, of course not missing any organs. Fox, I know you didn't kill them..."

"Alex, I have to tell you some things. You know the river... you the priest, me the prince?"

"Yeah?"

"It was real... you are somehow connected to..."

Alex shook his head, but not in negation of Fox's words.

"I know... somehow I know." He looked down at Fox and he smiled gently.

"I was promised you, you know?"

"You... you were?" Mulder's eyes were wide.

Alex pulled back, flushing a bit as he trailed his wet cock over Fox's thigh. "I... think I was. Sometimes it is very clear... like I know exactly what happened... then I get overwhelmed, but I know one thing for certain," he said with sudden fierceness.

"I am not losing you again. I have dreamed every night of my adult life of some lover that I can't remember when I waken. In my dreams I am so happy, but I always lose you... I go to sleep every night wanting the dream but dreading waking. Until now, until you, I never could remember your face, but it was you. Always. God, I can remember it now. You and I, in a bed so big I could lose you if I weren't holding you so tight. We make love, and it is love, not sex... I love you with all my heart and my name on your lips makes me want to cry."

"Why do you lose me?" Mulder asked. He was overwhelmed that anyone would look at him with such intensity, such obvious love. That it was this man, made him shake.

"You..." Alex shook his head.

"I don't know. I can't remember. But I know that I killed several people in my revenge of it." His eyes narrowed.

"I have to go," he said suddenly.

"What? No! Please, Alex, don't go. Stay with me," Mulder pleaded, his eyes soft pools of entreaty.

"I am never going to leave you, jewel, but I have to go make sure that no one can prove you're involved." He grinned suddenly and Mulder gasped as something cat-like and feral shifted in his lover's eyes.

"I know just what to do too."

"Alex? Are you... are you Alexandros?"

Alex smiled.

"I thought I told you, my name is Alex Krycek, FBI remember? Not an ancient Egyptian priest."

"But how...?"

"Are you the prince he loved? Or are you a man who works in a museum?"

Mulder shook his head.

"I am just me, but..."

"There is no but. We are ourselves... we just have a long history if you will."

Mulder grinned then.

"So you are real? I wasn't really sure. I never expected anything like you to happen to me."

"What, no dreams of some secret lover to take you away from everything?"

"I dreamed of Alexandros," Mulder admitted.

"I can handle that, just no one else. I have a feeling I am going to be very possessive," Alex growled.

"You really are beautiful you know."

"You are the beautiful one. No one has ever looked at me in passing before now," Mulder admitted.

Alex laughed then and stroked the beautiful face.

"You know, I do believe my goddess made you blind so you would be mine alone, for I will never believe that you were ignored. Can it be that you just didn't notice people mauling you?" He stood then and quickly dressed, smiling as Fox leaned up on his elbows a thoughtful look on his face.

"No, no I think I would have noticed that," he said finally, waiting just a moment before he grinned up at Alex.

Alex chuckled and leaned down to kiss him softly.

"I'll be back, I promise. And when this is over, I have a surprise for you, my dusty little jewel," he breathed.

"A surprise," Mulder asked.

"What is it?"

"When this is over," Krycek promised with a wink.

"When this is over." He moved to leave but paused, his eyes glowing again that strange light.

"Will you be okay here? Can you find your way out?"

"Yes, of course, but can you?"

Krycek grinned and just disappeared into the dim hall. He moved fast, faster than he had ever moved before. He could smell the difference in the air in front of him and to the right. He followed the scent of coffee far away and within minutes he was out next to the coffin. He paused briefly to touch the fine dust of his predecessor.

"I won't lose him. I promise you," he whispered. He saw the gleam of metal in the dust and found an amulet there. He pulled it out and carefully put it on, hiding it beneath his hastily buttoned shirt. It warmed immediately and he smiled then. Oh he knew just how to proceed. No one would be allowed to come between he and his jewel ever again. He couldn't remember what had happened so very long ago, only that someone had stolen his love and never returned him. With new determination he set out to his hunt.


Agent Alex Krycek had been out of the FBI academy at Quantico for nearly eighteen months. He considered himself to be fairly experienced now, and no longer the green agent who had made his older colleagues laugh with his puppy-dog earnestness and desire to please. In fact, his quick mind and perceptive insights had made him a popular addition to the recent Washington Subway Strangler case.

But nothing in the world could have prepared him for meeting the magnetically attractive, sensuous Professor Mulder, who had, in the course of a day changed his whole life. He felt as if he were struggling through the desert sands of his dreams, towards an uncertain future. But he was sure of one thing. Mulder was in deep trouble with the FBI and it would take a miracle to help him.

Though Mulder did seem to have a powerful divine ally on his side.

When he left the museum, Alex knew that he would have to tread carefully. This case wasn't as straightforward as it seemed. His first task would have to be an examination of the evidence against his lover.

He blushed.

He wasn't used to having thoughts like that. As a product of Quantico, he had, to some extent, been indoctrinated by the ethical code that all agents were expected to follow. Male lovers were definitely anathema. A way to stop his career in its tracks. As a result, he had little experience of making love to a man. A few fumbling encounters more to satisfy his curiosity than for any lasting sense of pleasure. And no lovers since he had joined the Washington field office, despite a few offers.

He felt different now. As if part of him that he had never noticed before was awakening. A fiercely protective, passionate self that had a love of Fox Mulder as its center. He rather thought that he liked it.


Agent Dooley glared at his younger colleague.

"Where the hell have you been, Krycek? I was about to call out the cavalry to look for you!"

Alex tried to look contrite, but it wasn't a total success. He was still feeling a languorous pleasure from his encounter with Mulder. Green eyes with a hint of mischief lowered submissively before Dooley's wrath. The older agent sighed and shook his head.

"Try not to be so irresponsible, Krycek. Anyway, what did you find out from our academic friend? He was definitely hiding something. I'm waiting for the autopsy results on the victim, one James Hill, but my contact in the coroner's office was talking about something as savage as a wild animal attack. I'd love to know how Mulder did it once. Let alone twice......"

"I don't think he did," Alex said firmly.

"Anyway, did the victim's family have any information?"

"That's the second odd thing," Dooley said.

"I spoke to Hill's mother and girlfriend. Both of them said that he seemed to have a lot of cash that he couldn't account for legitimately. As if he'd been paid to do someone's dirty work!"

Alex frowned. He knew that Fox Mulder hadn't murdered anyone though he wasn't sure how he was so certain. In fact, he suspected that Fox's divine ally had something to do with the crime, and she had acted to protect him. In two similar incidents.

Who was trying to harm the handsome professor?

Alex growled softly and for a moment his eyes glittered in feline fury. Dooley turned to look at his partner in surprise, but Alex was already headed out of the door.


An hour later, Alex had found out some disturbing facts that only served to increase his concern. The thief at the museum was the source of the trouble. The police records Alex had accessed told him exactly who Hill's known associates were, and to Alex's shock, the thief and Mulder's attacker were known to each other. The two of them had both been arrested on an armed robbery charge three years ago, but the case had never been brought to trial due to the disappearance of a vital witness.

A third man had been implicated in the robbery, but had never faced charges. One Vince Ericsson. Alex decided to pay him a visit. Maybe he could get some clues about this dirty business.


Part 4

Mulder did not feel like working the next morning. For one thing, his colleagues would be all abuzz about the second scandalous thing to happen to him, a visit from the FBI. And in addition, certain parts of his anatomy were protesting a little at the unaccustomed use he had put them to yesterday. It had been worth it though. He was eager to hear from Alex again. How could he have neglected to give the young agent his home number?

"Professor Mulder...." Marta, his assistant, was waiting for him at the museum entrance. She looked worried.

"Marta! What's the matter?" Mulder forgot his own worries.

"Oh Professor. FBI Agent Dooley is in your office. He has a warrant to search your department....."

Mulder paled. What if the FBI found the traces he had left when he summoned Alexandros..... even his own sweet, personal FBI agent wouldn't be able to save him....

He followed Marta into the elevator, and made his way to his small office. And he couldn't quite suppress a small twinge of anticipation. Would Alex be there? But luck didn't favor him this time. Alex wasn't there. Just a grim faced Dooley and his assistants. And even as Mulder arrived, Dooley was lifting a bloodstained knife from Mulder's desk drawer. Dooley smiled in satisfaction.

"Any bets, Professor, as to whether this blood matches the DNA of one of our victims? You're a cold-blooded, savage killer, and I'm placing you under arrest!"

Mulder shook his head, bewildered, as his hands were cuffed behind his back. ".....But I've never seen that before in my life...."

"Tell it to the jury!" Dooley snapped. Then he paused in front of Marta. "Would you mind witnessing the fact that I found this in the Professor's desk, Miss....?"


It was all happening too fast. Agent Dooley had cuffed him, roughly pushed him into the back of a squad car and smirked at him through the window as he was driven away. Mulder remained silent throughout. He had been expecting something to go wrong, he couldn't be that happy for long. Alex had been a fantasy, a lovely fantasy, but dusty professors did not get that kind of man...at least they didn't get to keep them after the passion died away. He was suddenly very worried that somehow Alex might be linked to this. He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips; he would not let Alex get into trouble for this.

When he was brought into the precinct he intended to confess in order to completely absolve Agent Krycek of any wrongdoing. Maybe Alex would never get in any trouble, maybe Agent Dooley would never find out that his partner had been consorting with the prime suspect, but Mulder did not want to take any chances. He wondered how the police would take his story... how would he say he killed the men? How does a man tear apart two big men? He spent the rest of the ride plotting.


Alex stood in front of the large mansion, the residence of one Layton Throkmorten. Throkmorten was ostensibly a pillar of the community; a philanthropist; a self-made millionaire; father of two teenage girls and estranged from his ex-wife; art collector and antiquity smuggler. Alex might have only been an agent for a short period of time, but he had been able to piece together enough evidence, not wholly circumstantial, to point to Throkmorton's role in all of this. Vince Ericsson had been a font of babbling information, too afraid of the 'human panther' that had killed his partner-in-crime in the museum to deny Alex any information. Alex walked up to the huge doors and knocked with force.

A butler answered and he had to restrain a snicker. A butler! Who had butlers anymore? Man this guy was a piece of work. Not only had Alex discovered that Throkmorten had a thriving illegal smuggling business, which specialized in the artworks of ancient Persia and Egypt, but he was pretentious to boot. Alex flashed his badge and asked if he could speak to the lord of the manor. The butler raised one brow, let him into the large foyer and asked him to please wait.

"Thank you," Alex nodded at the suited man. He would be laughing if the situation weren't so personal. After five minutes of standing still he began to get restless. He wondered what was keeping Throkmorten, or if the man was simply being rude. Just as he was about to break all protocol and start to tear the place up in search of the man he heard footsteps returning to the foyer.

"Mr. Throkmorten will see you now," the butler informed Alex with the air of one granting an audience to royalty. As Alex followed the butler he noticed that the man moved silently, with an economy of motion that reminded Alex of his father. His father had been special ops in the military, a dangerous man. He frowned a bit then, his instincts going on alert. Something wasn't as it seemed.

He followed the older man to a lavish study and his eyes traveled over all the old world antiques... mostly Chinese... All legal Alex bet, the man wasn't stupid, just greedy. The man in question sat behind a large desk, his hands folded in front of him on the desk, an amused light in his pale blue eyes. Handsome guy, Alex thought to himself. He was a big man with short, almost military cut dark hair, tanned, early forties, with a powerful body. It threw Alex for a moment, this was not how he pictured the man who had gone to such trouble to steal artifacts from Mulder's find. He didn't look the sort of man who would hire bumbling thieves or street thugs. Alex watched as the man's eyes widened in appreciation and he held back a glare. Though he had grown up with men and women both giving him lust filled glances; he didn't need the complication right now.

"Agent Alex Krycek, I presume," Throkmorten said slowly as his eyes slid up and down Alex's frame.

Alex remained silent until the man had finished his lewd inspection, at least he knew the cause of the estranged wife. When the man's eyes met his once more Alex raised a brow in recognition of the man's perusal.

"Yes, I am Special Agent Alex Krycek. I want to ask you a few questions pertaining to two recent deaths."

"Oh?" The voice was smooth, untroubled, cultured. There was a small smile hovering over the narrow lips.

"What deaths would those be?" he asked. There was a slightly patronizing tone in his deep voice, one that clearly doubted that someone who looked like Alex belonged anywhere but a bed and certainly couldn't be taken seriously.

"The deaths occurred in connection to what we believe to be an attempt to steal some ancient Egyptian artifacts," Alex replied smoothly. He saw a little flicker in the cold eyes before they were once again amused.

"Oh, well that is terrible. But, why are you here?"

"Several nights ago, Mr. Throkmorten, two men broke into the Grand Museum in Georgetown with the intent to steal parts of a recent acquisition, specifically the jewelry off the mummy of a High Priest of Bastet." Throkmorten's eyes widened.

"I see you recognize the name."

"Bastet, the Goddess of lust..."

"Not really," Alex said with some irritation.

"Her priests were beautiful... incomparable... They spent their days pleasuring any wealthy man who would give the temples money..."

"That is not at all true!' Alex spat.

"The priests did have sex to honor Bastet, but they were not whores, Mr. Throkmorten!"

Throkmorten narrowed his eyes, "I can see you feel very strongly about this. But," he spread his hands out, "...we all have our own little ideas of what history was like. I like to picture beautiful priests servicing the wealthy, you like to picture noble men intent on worshipping a cat."

Alex controlled himself and remembered that he was here to save Fox, not to engage in a discussion of history with a man who clearly wanted all handsome young men to be whores. He glared though before continuing.

"As I was saying, the men broke in, tried to steal some jewels and one was killed. Then two nights later another attempt was made for the jewels... this time the man who found the artifacts was attacked..."

Alex didn't question how he knew what he knew nor did he dwell on the fact that some large cat, bigger than a panther, had killed the thief that had dared to touch Fox.

"...and one of the thieves was killed."

"It seems then that you should talk to this other man, Agent Alex Krycek, this Professor Mulder," Throkmorten purred, his eyes enjoying the sight before him immeasurably.

"I never said that the man's name was Mulder," Alex said darkly. He sensed the butler behind him before Throkmorten made a small gesture with his hand and the butler retreated.

"I must have read it in the papers then," he said smoothly. Just then the phone on his desk rang and he smiled a bit before answering it.

"Ah, hello there, my friend. How are things shaping up in our little deal?"

Alex nearly fell to the floor when he could quite clearly heard the voice of his partner on the other end of the line. He quickly composed himself as he knew he shouldn't be able to hear the voice on the other end of the line. He stared at Throkmorten and effected his best confused look.

"Mr. Throkmorten, we've just arrested Professor Mulder for the murders. I can't find the amulet," Dooley said.

Alex hid his reaction to the news that Fox had been arrested, but he simply wanted to run to the phone and demand that Dooley tell him just where Fox had been taken.

"Ah good, that will help with a little issue I am having," Throkmorten said, amused.

"It's too bad though, you would have like the professor... if you know what I mean. He's right up your alley... Pretty thing, that one."

Throkmorten chuckled, "Oh well. You can't win them all. Thank you for the information." He hung up the phone and looked back to Alex.

"Well, Agent Alex Krycek, I really hate to cut this short, but I have things to attend to. So, maybe you could come back later? Maybe tonight?"

Alex felt an instinctual desire to rip at the man, tear him to bits, but he needed to help Fox. He smiled slowly, enjoying the effect that lazy smile had on the big man.

"Maybe I will." He turned to the butler and growled, "I can find my own way out." He knew what he had to do. If Mulder was in custody when another, identical, murder occurred, he would no longer be the prime suspect. It was with no remorse that Alex left the home of the ring-master and went hunting out one of the lackeys, preferably one of the gang that had cornered Fox that night on the street. And of course the incriminating knife could disappear......

After he had left, Throkmorten turned to his man, "Miles, I want that man. See to it." With that the butler, Miles, was dismissed and Throkmorten looked out his window to watch the pretty agent get into his car and drive away.


Mulder opened his mouth to confess, but then a pair of green eyes flashed in his mind. He should give Alex a chance to think of something. To come up with a way out of this mess.


Alex Krycek entered the FBI building with a heavy step. Despite extensive inquiries, he hadn't been able to trace the thief who might have exonerated Mulder, Vince Ericsson. He had had him in his grasp earlier when he wrangled Throkmorten's name from him, but instead of taking him in he had hurried off to confront Throkmorten. And now the sniveling bastard was missing! So his suspicions at the moment centered on the powerful art collector Throkmorten. He shivered. The part of him that was young and slightly naive was frankly terrified by the dark lust he had seen reflected in the man's icy, blue eyes.

The strong and self-reliant priest in him warned him to take care. Throkmorten was a fabulously wealthy sexual predator who would take whatever he wanted without compunction. Only his desire to help Mulder stopped Alex from requesting a transfer to a field office somewhere far away from here.

It seemed that the whole world was conspiring to keep them apart. What chance did he stand in winning happiness? Even his own partner seemed to be part of some vast conspiracy controlled by the tycoon. And at the back of his mind, there was some vague hint of familiarity. As if he had met Throkmorten before, but had forgotten it.

He had deliberately chosen to come here, late at night, in the hope of sneaking in to see Mulder. A crazy idea. But he had to try. In the end, it was easier than he thought. As Dooley's partner and one of the agents assigned to the case, he was pleased to discover that he was able to interview Mulder at any time. All he had to do was sign the release forms, and the Professor was brought to a private interview room. He only hoped that Dooley didn't get to hear about it.

When Mulder was led into the interview room, his head was bowed, and his shoulders were hunched over, as if to protect himself from a mortal blow. Hazel eyes flickered listlessly upwards, to inspect the latest in a long line of hostile questioners. Alex saw the sudden flare of hope in the face of the man he loved, swiftly concealed, lest the supervising agent who led him in would see. Mulder was guided over to a chair and seated.

Alex addressed his fellow agent.

"It's all right. I can handle him, and besides, he's cuffed. You can wait outside!"

"If you're sure......." the agent said. Alex nodded.

The agent left, and Alex found himself alone with this fascinating man He was momentarily speechless. Shyly he smiled at his lover. There was so much he wanted to say. So much he wanted to do in the company of this man. If he was wanted.....

Mulder must have sensed his uncertainty because the smile was returned, magnified.

"I'm sorry....." Alex whispered.

"I tried so hard to find a way out of this mess......."

"Shhhh," Mulder answered.

"I know. I've never doubted you for an instant....."

Then Alex found himself holding his lover tightly, as Mulder rose to his feet and their bodies met, for the first time since that apocalyptic encounter in front of the statue. Had it really only been a couple of days... long days spent searching out Vince Ericsson and trying to conjure up the spirit of the cat he knew could do the killing he felt would exonerate Mulder. He buried his face in the dark hair, as Mulder rested his head on Alex's shoulder.

"I want you so much," Alex murmured.

Mulder kissed him. It was like nothing else Alex had ever experienced. Making his head spin and his body burn. He found himself dragging Fox closer, sending his tongue probing into the sweet mouth, becoming hard as hell just from this. It seemed to last forever, and yet, not long enough. And before Alex could draw breath, Mulder had slithered to his knees and was nuzzling Alex's aching cock.

Alex groaned. Shook his head uncertainly.

"Fox..... you don't need to......."

Mulder's deep brown eyes were filled with laughter.

"I've dreamed of doing this to you!"

Alex found himself obeying the potent force of need in Mulder's voice. He slid down his zipper, and felt his hard length spring free. Mulder's moist lips parted, then Alex moaned in pleasure as the full mouth drew him in. The head of his penis was being worked by Mulder, and he helplessly pushed forward, letting Mulder set the pace, controlling him. He had never done this before, except in half-remembered dreams. It was more glorious than he had ever imagined it could be.

Mulder drew him in even deeper and Alex caught sight of the handsome face upturned towards him, eyes half-closed in pleasure, as he swallowed Alex's erection like an expert. Though somehow, Alex knew Mulder was as new to this form of sexual expression as he was.

He found his knees growing weak as Mulder increased the speed of his rhythmic sucking. He fisted Mulder's hair as the pleasure intensified, trying not to scream, feeling the orgasm gathering. And finally coming, jamming a hand in his mouth to muffle his cries in case the officer on duty outside the door came in.

And for an instant as he came, it seemed as though he was elsewhere, in a huge temple, with Fox as a supplicant on his knees before him. And their intimacy, despite its public performance, was a holy act of worship and love.

Mulder eagerly swallowed his ejaculate, and leaned his now tousle-haired head against Alex's thigh. He heard Alex's shuddering breaths and grinned slightly shakily. His first time with a man's cock down his throat and it had been incredible. Addictive. Momentarily sublime.

"That's one way to interrogate a Federal prisoner!" he said huskily. He felt Alex's hand stroke his hair gently. The young agent drew back so that he could look into his beloved's eyes, then leaned forward and kissed his forehead tenderly.

They had barely a moment of warning, the sound of the door opening and voices beyond. Mulder scrambled back to his chair, whilst Alex fumblingly rearranged his clothing.

"......that prisoner shouldn't have been moved without my authorization.........." The voice addressed the agent who had been outside the door of the interview room.

"Oh. It's you, Krycek. Why didn't you wait until tomorrow?" Dooley scowled at his partner.

"You'll have to curb these irresponsible urges you keep having! Well now that he's here, I'll take over. You can go!"

His mind still in turmoil from his recent encounter, Alex could not think of a reason for him to disobey the order of his superior. With an apologetic glance at his lover, Alex left.

He was no further forward in solving his case. All the questions he had wanted to ask Mulder had seemed unimportant, compared to the feel of Mulder in his arms and their lovemaking. It wasn't long before a feeling of black depression descended upon him. Were things never going to go right for them?

He felt tears prickle at the back of his eyes.

There was one thing he could do.


".....Please help me! I don't know what to do next... I've tried everything I know, and still I can't help him...." Alex felt his voice break and choked back a sob. Alone on his knees in the darkness, he pleaded for help.

"Why did you do this to us? Bring us together, only for me to lose him......" His voice dropped to the faintest whisper.

"I love him!"

There was only silence.

He bowed his head and let the tears come

Alex Krycek, a civilized member of society in one of the most advanced nations in the world, was doing something utterly crazy and desperate. He knelt before an ancient, statue in the dark depths of the museum and begged.

My favorite son

Alex's head jerked up, and he found himself watched by green eyes brimming over with compassion.

You will have what you were promised, beloved. But an ancient evil has returned, and will try to destroy your happiness.

Alex watched her face. He saw the love that shone for him, and part of the knot of pain within him seemed to loosen.

Defeat the evil and there will be no barrier to your love. If you are strong you will be successful. But first you must remember ALL of what came before........ Close your eyes and see how you fought the darkness before........

Alex was once again transported back to the time long ago when he had first met his Fox. That blissful memory when Fox had been with him, in the temple of Bastet........

Fox had reclined lazily on silk at his side, as Alex publicly accepted offerings made by the common people in thanks to their favorite deity. There was much rejoicing in the temple and the surrounding city, because their priest of love was so obviously smitten himself. A sign of the goddess's favor, to grant her precious gift to Alexandros. The high priest could not be happier as he reclined in the sunny courtyard, a silken canopy protecting his throne from the harsher rays of the sun as a slave fanned cool air over the two of them with a great ostrich-feather fan.

Quite when the darkness began to encroach upon them, he couldn't say, but suddenly, the sun seemed to darken, though it was still midmorning.

The modern mind of Krycek recognized the eclipse for what it was, but he sensed Alexandros' fear as the light of Ra, king of the gods was snuffed out. And at the moment of maximum darkness, a figure suddenly appeared before them, a smirk on his face as he surveyed the beautiful golden-skinned high priest and his half-naked Fox, who had been wearing only a fine linen loincloth, which hid nothing of his beauty.

Ice blue eyes glided lustfully across Fox's body, and the young prince huddled closer to Alexandros in instinctive terror. Then the dark priest's gaze sharpened as he studied Alexandros closely for the first time. Few men or women came away from an audience with the high priest without being touched by the goddess, their bodies growing hard or moist as they knelt before him.

The stranger too sighed softly, and the black-dyed linen across his loins tented prominently as he felt a burning lust stir in him. It would be so pleasurable to have the delectable Alexandros serve him as a slave, ready to serve his needs and beg prettily for his master. It would feel good to press his foot against the back of Alexandros' neck and watch the lush body writhe and grovel.

Alexandros snarled suddenly, as he realized what sort of being stood before him in open challenge.

A serpent priest! A servant of the god of evil and darkness, Persea himself. And this one thought himself powerful enough to walk into the temple of the goddess herself.

"A challenge, little cat, if you think your power is strong enough. Face me in a contest of spells, to decide which of our gods is the stronger!"

Alex Krycek, present as a spectator in the mind of Alexandros, cried out in horrified recognition of the evil serpent priest.

Throkmorten!

Alexandros bridled as the evil priest's gaze slid once more to Fox. Those eyes turning black, so black the pupils were all but invisible as they slowly traced their way along the huddled prince.

When Alexandros remained silent, not deigning to reply to the snake priest's challenge, the taunting light in the black eyes glowed.

"Such a delicious thrall, Priest," Throkmorten taunted.

"Such a young one, too. How did you acquire such flesh? Did some blind fool sell him to you? Or was he a gift from your goddess?"

"You will leave now, there will be no contest. Your kind craves pain and suffering and I will tolerate your presence no longer." A slight change of Alexandros' eyes gave testimony to his rage. The pupils contracted and elongated while the eyes of the stone goddess, Bastet, began to glow its own green fire.

"Your kind," the snake priest taunted, "always runs from conflict. Perhaps I can change your mind?"

"My goddess needs not hide from your god, he slithers beneath her as you do me."

"Perhaps you do not want to upset your pretty thrall, he still has the dew of innocence about him, the legs still closed so primly..."

Alexandros moved to block his young jewel from the lustful gaze and stepped closer to the offending priest. His movements were fluid, no longer entirely human.

"You do not even speak of him. You will not look at him. You will not tempt me into one of your insidious, worthless duels. It is not your god that our people rejoice in. Your kind slither in the shadows, forced to abduct your worshippers and to force obedience. Bastet is well loved, she does not need to prove her strength to one such as you," Alexandros hissed.

"Force?" The voice grew sibilant and smooth.

"Oh I think you are wrong, beautiful one. We do not stand to let anyone touch our bodies, like courtesans, it is true, but our thralls come ever so willingly." He smiled and a yellow light burned within the black of his eyes as the young prince gasped suddenly and rose. His smile grew as the pretty priest turned wondering eyes to his thrall... green eyes widening as the lovely prince moved past him.

When Fox made to approach the snake priest Alexandros grabbed his arm, his strong fingers digging into the supple muscles there. Fox whimpered at being held back and Alexandros nodded his head to his priests waiting nearby. "Easy, jewel," he whispered tenderly into Fox's ear.

"Take the prince to our chambers," he said to his priests. They immediately came forward and took the prince gently, guiding him out of the antechamber.

"Do you think that he would have knelt at my feet and taken my cock in his mouth." He smiled.

"Would he have called me master... or do you think he would be too busy?" He could see that he was very nearly under the priest's skin. He wanted more... so much more. He wanted to take the thrall the priest was so possessive of in front of the Alexandros and then... ah... Then he would take the priest. Alexandros would be such a fine possession. The little prince was undoubtedly more the type he would love to defile, such beauty and innocence, but the High Priest was far too tempting a challenge. He had been sent to destroy the High Priest. His God had whispered to him of the pretty prince and the love Alexandros had for him. Here was the chance to bring the priest, beloved of the people, to his knees. He intended to obey his god, only now his plan had changed. Once destroyed, he, Notyal, High Priest of Persea God of Pain, brother to Osiris, would claim the beautiful prince and Alexandros as well.

"Perhaps a contest then? Can you match my spell?"

Alexandros stood still, his goddess silent as she left him to deal with his enemy alone. As High Priest he should be well prepared to deal with such. He smiled, confidant that he could best the man's spell. A simple love spell? Insulting. It would wear off of Fox as soon as his sweet jewel was away from the insidious presence. Love spells never lasted, it was one constant truth in the realm of magic. His overconfidence was his undoing. He willed his mind to serenity and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he was smiling triumphantly.

"I have cast my spell, serpent, and it is this. You will die before I set eyes on you again."

Notyal was enraged! This spell he had not anticipated. To never have Alexandros, it was almost funny, when he considered his own spell. He could feel himself begin to fade, banished from Alexandros' presence. There was only his revenge to be had.

"You are a fool, cat priest," he hissed, fighting to stay until his words could be heard.

"I have already cast my spell and yours dooms you to an eternity without your prince."

"You cast your pathetic spell, serpent, you tried to make my jewel want you, but that will fade and since you will never lay eyes on me again, you will never see Fox again," Alexandros spat.

"I never said that was the spell for you to beat, you just assumed that it was, young one," Notyal chuckled, his body turning into that of the coiling serpent.

"Your mistake... my win."

"What was your spell?" Alexandros gasped as he tried to clutch the writhing form of the serpent. Yellow eyes alone remained as he was answered.

"Your Fox will not remember you or your love, he will fear you with all that is in him until you have fallen at my feet and worshipped both me and Persea... you see? Your spell has doomed you." With that Notyal was gone.

"No!" Alexandros cried.

"Leave me... leave, all of you!" he commanded those gathered still. Surely his jewel would not forget their love. Surely he would never fear him? For he would never harm his sweet prince.

But forget he did. Only there was no fear, it was a quiet terror that burned in his jewel's eyes whenever Fox looked upon Alexandros.


Alex Krycek shuddered as he lay at the feet of Bastet.

"Why?"

"Why what, my favorite?"

"Why then does he love me now? For I never kneeled... I never worshipped another, did I?"

A soft chuckle was his reply.

"You will remember it all, but know this, when Notyal died his spell died with him."


"Tell me what happened to them," Alex Krycek begged.

"How did I overcome the curse......."

My son, there was only one way to break the power of the evil that afflicted your beloved. And you never hesitated for a moment. You left your city in the hands of your priests, and set out alone into the great desert, to search for the fabled city of the serpent gods, the place of Persea...."

Alex was once more in the mind of the high priest Alexandros. He rode into the shifting sands of the west, on the back of a great black stallion, a gift from some grateful temple supplicant. As an inhabitant of a desert land, he had known since he was a child how to survive in that treacherous place. Clothed in long, dark robes, his head was covered to protect his skin from the deadly heat of the sun. Only his green eyes showed, burning with the urgency of his task..... The only thing that could possibly break the power of the dark gods.

The goddess had told him what it was he had to do. Destroy the statue of the dark serpent god that stood in the center of the temple, in that unholy place.

Alexandros was afraid, despite his powers. He would have to rely on his own abilities and he had no illusions about his fate, should one of the dark priests discover his identity. But disguised as a simple desert tribesman, he would hopefully escape their notice.

He traveled mostly by night, guided by the stars. After the fifth day of travelling, his water supplies were getting low. But in his dreams, he could sense a shadowy darkness ahead of him. A brooding sense of evil that made his soul shrink back in instinctive terror.

All he had to do was let it lead him to its source.


Alex Krycek swayed unsteadily on his feet, the effect of so many revelations coming one after another was beginning to overload his senses. The goddess took pity on him, and the mind-storm of data ceased.

Go home and sleep, little one. You will need all of your strength tomorrow!

And so it was that Alex found himself stumbling up the stairs to his third floor apartment, utterly exhausted, in the early hours of the morning. She was right of course. He needed to be sharp to try and save Fox

He was careless.

He didn't spot the two men hiding in the shadows. The first warning he had was the sudden cold press of a gun barrel into his spine. The second man stepped out in front of him and Alex gasped as he recognized Throkmorten's butler. He looked nothing like the stuffy servant any more. This man wore an air of deadly purpose. With a pleased smile, he raised a small aerosol spray in front of him and squirted its contents in Alex's face.

And that was the last thing Alex Krycek remembered for a very long time.

Part 5

"Agent Dooley, I am telling you, I did not kill anyone," Mulder said tiredly. He had hoped that Alex would come back and stop this madness, but he hadn't.

"Well I think you did, Professor. In fact when we get the prints back from that knife I think you should start considering how popular a young guy like you will be in prison," Dooley grinned.

"You would do yourself a favor if you just admit it to me now, we can work out a deal... I can offer you a lighter sentence... work something with the DA maybe."

"That's it, Agent Dooley, I am not speaking another word until I consult with an attorney," Mulder growled.

"You'll need one," Dooley said as he stood to leave the room. He saw the nervous face of one of the police officers as soon as he opened the door. His smile faded as he was drawn aside.

"What is it?"

"Agent Dooley... the knife... the knife is gone," the young officer stuttered.

"What?" Dooley hissed, his fists clenched and unclenched, aching to wring the skinny neck peering up long and pale from the man's uniform.

"It's gone...it was there, but now it isn't. And, Agent... there has been another killing."

"Another killing?" Dooley looked back toward the door that hid the young professor.

"When?" That was the important question. If it had been when the professor was in custody then he would have to release him. If he was released before Throkmorten was able to find the amulet of Bastet there would be hell to pay.

"Two hours ago," the young officer said.

"We got the wrong guy."

"We didn't! He had the knife..."

"A knife that you cannot produce."

Dooley turned to face the man who had come upon them. An older man with a balding head and fierce eyes.

"Who are you?" Dooley growled.

"I am Walter Skinner, the University has hired me to represent Professor Mulder in this matter. Am I correct in this? You are holding my client, have held him here... without allowing him consultation with an attorney for two entire days? If this is the case, sir, I think you will soon be facing your own version of a firing squad."

"He didn't ask for one," Dooley said quickly and defensively.

"And am I also correct in my assessment that you do not have any evidence to support this holding and that there has been another murder committed while my client was under your supervision?"

Dooley knew when he was beaten. Without another word he spun on his heel and stalked off.


Mulder still couldn't believe how quickly he had been released. The attorney, Skinner, had been all business, setting up an appointment for Mulder to speak to him later in the week to address the situation. Agent Dooley and the rest of the staff at the police station were all facing some very heavy criticism. The media was having a field day with them and even the Attorney General seemed determined to bring the matter to a quick conclusion. Skinner's very unconcerned attitude about Mulder's level of trouble in itself made Mulder feel a bit more optimistic. Now, if he could only find Alex. He had been back in his apartment for two hours and hadn't even heard from him. He had a sick feeling in his stomach. Somehow, he felt that Alex needed him. But why would a trained agent need an archaeologist? Indiana Jones he was not. The most exciting thing he had ever done before finding Alexandros was spending a night in the Egyptian desert without water and no supplies. He had no idea what to do, or even if he had to do anything.

He wandered into his kitchen and poked listlessly through the refrigerator. Finding nothing appealing he wandered back to his living room and sat on his couch, the black leather cool and familiar.

"Oh, Alex, where are you? What are we doing?" He lay back and closed his eyes... maybe in dreams he could find some respite.


"Wake up, Alex, you have a whole new life to greet you."

Alex blinked reluctantly and groaned at the pain in his head.

"Oh, yes, you will have a small headache for a while, but it will fade soon, beautiful."

Alex focused on the voice and his eyes widened as he stared up at Layton Throkmorten.

"What in the hell?" He tried to rise but his hands were tied to the bedpost.

"No, don't struggle, Alex. The bonds are for your protection." Throkmorten smoothed a glossy, black lock out of Alex's furious face.

"I am not into bondage you understand, nothing so vulgar as that... just lovely men... young men. I am a collector of art. I own only the best."

"Notyal," Alex hissed.

"You will never own me!"

"Notyal? Is that some sort of curse, Alex?" Throkmorten seemed delighted by Alex's venom.

"You will come to appreciate me, you are just tired and look, you are still wearing your suit... you should be in silken robes." His hand traced the top of Alex's muscled thigh.

"Short little robes that end here." He smiled lustfully.

"Or," he purred, "nothing at all."

"You bastard, you can't keep me from my destiny. I will not allow you to win," Alex's eyes widened, old pain shone forth and he gasped, "not again."

"You're still tired, pretty. Rest now. When you wake, you will start your new life." He bent to kiss Alex's bowed mouth, but Alex turned his head with a small growl. Throkmorten chuckled.

"You will love it, baby, no worries, no itty bitty decisions to trouble your pretty head about... just living life as a pampered treasure... a jewel." The last word was purred and for one instant the older man's eyes narrowed with some forgotten memory. He cupped one hand at the crux of Alex's thighs and squeezed the soft flesh there.

"Oh I have waited all my life for you... something so pretty... so rare."

"I will kill you! I will," Alex swore. Despite his words he was afraid. Maybe if he were older, more hardened he wouldn't have been so frightened of that squeezing hand, or the look of lust on the older man's evil face.

"Oh Goddess, please," he whispered.


Throkmorten was pleased with himself. His plans were succeeding beyond his wildest dreams. Not only had his contact in the museum managed to steal several priceless artifacts for him, but his faithful manservant had delivered one of the most exceptionally breathtaking specimens of young male beauty into his hands. Agent Alex Krycek was presently spread-eagled on his bed, awaiting Throkmorten's pleasure.

He felt his manhood throbbing in anticipation. The beautiful Alex would find out soon enough what his new master would like him to do. Perhaps the young agent was as yet untaught in the forms of pleasure he preferred. So many nights of exploration lay ahead. And soon his young agent would learn to love him and express his appreciation in so many ways.

But Throkmorten didn't wish to neglect his other pet project. The room he had set aside in his house to house his Egyptian collection. One of the world's richest collections of arcane and magical artifacts. And at the heart of his collection, in pride of place at the head of the room, the recently excavated statue of the darkest of the old gods, the now nameless lord of darkness and pain whom the later Coptic Christians equated with Satan himself. It had indeed been skillfully repaired.

Reverently, Throkmorten placed the golden bracelets of the high priest Alexandros in the display case. What exquisite workmanship they showed. Lost in admiration for a while, it was the lengthening shadows that broke into his reverie finally. With a smile, he headed for his other prize. What a good day this was turning out to be.


Alex had called out to the goddess who seemed to control his fate. He had tried so hard to get free, tugging at the restraints with all his strength. But it was useless. Even if he had possessed ten times the strength, he would never have been able to break the metal bracelets that held him splayed out on the bed like a sacrifice. He could guess what the evil Throkmorten wanted with him, and the prospect was terrifying. But despite his frustration and the fear he felt, his body was still suffering from the effects of the drug they had given him. Slowly, his breathing slowed, and his eyelids grew heavy. He shook his head, trying to stay awake, but in the end, he couldn't fight the impulse and slid into sleep.

Almost immediately, Alex was back in his dream of ancient times. He was once again Alexandros, and he was standing on the edge of a desert plateau, several hundred feet above the depression of land that marked an oasis, where life-giving water bubbled to the surface. There were many such places in the desert, but this oasis was more like a rift torn in the earth by tremendous forces. At some distant time in the past, men had taken advantage of the isolation of this place and built a city of blood-red sandstone. The lost city he sought. The place where the goddess had suggested he would find an answer to his dilemma.

He awaited the coming of darkness, and then, as he saw torchlights began to burn within the walls, he began the tricky descent. Now was the best time to enter the city unnoticed.

As Alexandros approached the city, a glow began to light up the sky above the city. Somehow he knew the cause instinctively. In the darkness, the blood soaked ceremonies of the evil one would take place, and many innocents would be killed horribly. The glow would come from the vast fire burning at the heart of the temple, before the unholy statue of the god. The victims would be cremated after their sufferings had been offered to the evil one.

Alexandros shivered. Such monstrous acts were compounded by the evil of cremation. As a devout practitioner of the Egyptian religion, Alexandros believed in mummification as necessity for life after death. The victims sacrificed in the temple were thus doomed to eternal damnation.

The dusty streets of the city were deserted. Regular patrols by the priests of the temple guaranteed a curfew. No sane person would draw attention to themselves when the temple always needed a ready supply of victims.

He kept to the deepest shadows as he approached his goal, and he knew he was close when he began to smell the vile odor of cooking human flesh.

The compassionate Alexandros promptly lost the contents of his stomach, and had to wait for long moments before he regained his composure.

It was absurdly easy in the end to enter the temple. No one in their right mind would wish to enter this place. A long line of worshippers were waiting to perform devotions before the god. Alexandros surreptitiously joined the line. Each acolyte, as he or she reached the image of the god, would bow, and slash at themselves with a knife, offering the blood to the evil monster of Persea. A few dragged slaves or innocents as a sign of greater devotion.

Alexandros was outraged.

He shuffled slowly in line behind the worshippers until he got closer to the statue. And then he stood before the object of his goal. The image of the dark one that held all of the power of the god. Its black jewel eyes glowed with unholy light.

With a snarl of hatred, he pulled out his knife, as if to worship the dark one, then he called upon his power and leapt at the statue before the priests could stop him. He plunged the dagger into those glittering, dark jewel eyes, and shattered them.

A sound like a million bees buzzing exploded through the temple, carrying with it a shock wave that blasted Alexandros and all of the people in the temple off their feet. And with a thunderous crack, the statue split in two.

The evil one was defeated. For now.

The priests nearby let out a howl of outrage and horror, and launched themselves at Alexandros. But now, when the power of the dark god shattered, Alexandros could call openly upon the goddess Bastet. He felt his body fill with strength and hope once again, as he was lifted into the air and carried by the wings of the sky gods back to his homeland, and Fox.

It seemed to him that he stood before the statue of the goddess, in his own familiar temple, but this image of Bastet was no statue, but was a living being.

My son, you have done all I asked of you and more. You have earned yourself a place in my heart forever, because of your strength and courage. You have broken the curse of the evil one.

Alexandros fell to his knees and bowed his head, as the goddess stepped forward and laid her hand on his head. The temple priests cried out in wonder at the sight before them.

I'm sorry, my son. The one you love has left this place and gone back to his own land.. He is beyond your reach, though his heart could once again be yours

"Please.....!" Alexandros begged.

I must offer you a hard choice, beloved one. If you are strong, you may have him for eternity, but you must leave behind all that you know.

Tears of hope ran down Alexandros' beautiful face and he bowed his head before her wisdom. "So be it," he whispered.

See your future she said.

Alex Krycek, who had been watching Alexandros in awe, in his dream, suddenly found himself standing before the high priest and the goddess, visible to all in the temple.

He cried out in terror.

Alexandros lifted his tear-stained face and stared at his future self. So very young and innocent, because he had never seen the depths of human evil, as the priest had. There was a sweetness to him, despite his efforts to appear worldly and confident. Alexandros' own green eyes gleamed in the too-young face.

"Please...." Alex said desperately, holding out his hands to them both. "Help me! That priest is trying to hurt us....." He crumpled to the floor, sobbing desolately.

"Don't let him win...."

"I don't understand......" Alexandros said.

You must help him, The goddess said. Go back with him and show him how to waken the powers that lie within him. You will find your love there. Then my promise will be fulfilled.

She studied the young Krycek.

Will you accept the guidance of Alexandros?

The two Alex's knelt before her, both acquiescent. Then Alexandros heard her voice whispering instructions to him. He reached out and gathered the quietly sobbing Alex Krycek into his arms, and felt the younger man cling to him for comfort. A warm, sweet body molded itself to his and he found himself kissing Alex gently.

The goddess raised her hand above them and their minds and souls joined as one, in a flash of light. The body of the high priest Alexandros fell lifeless to the marble floor of his temple, and the priests converged on it, to conduct the traditional funeral rites, as instructed by their goddess.


Alex Krycek woke up, still tied to Throkmorten's bed, but with one noticeable difference. Alexandros sat in the back of his mind, a warm, comforting presence, as if the priest still had his arms around Alex. The high priest looked around him with fascination, out of Alex's eyes.

Do you always sleep this way? he asked curiously.


Mulder woke with a start, on his leather couch. He had dreamt again of the other time. He had been in a cold, dreary castle wishing for something he couldn't remember when a large woman, dressed in a pale gold gown that made her look like a big coin joined him. He had greeted her as mother though he knew she was merely another in a long line of wives to his father. She had smiled a bit meanly and he knew that she was about to tell him something that she hoped would hurt him.

"You're pretty priest is dead, Fox," she had said with a little pat on his arm. When he just stared at her blankly she frowned.

"The way your father railed on in a rage, I assumed you two were an item."

Fox remembered something then, green eyes so beautiful that he could live just to stare into them. His stepmother had grinned then, quickly masking it as his eyes widened a bit.

"Yes, it seems, dear Fox, that the mighty priest had just returned triumphant from some quest and dropped, lifeless on the floor of the temple. Of course, his funeral must have been lovely. But it is a barbaric custom to murder all the servants as well, but... I really must attend to your younger brothers now, I just thought you should know. Poor Alexandros, so young."

He had remembered then, remembered it all. When he woke, his face was covered with tears. He didn't know what had happened to him those long years ago, but how could anyone have lived with pain of losing a love like the one that had been stolen from them? Suddenly he knew that Alex, his Alex was in danger, that he needed help. He looked about the apartment as if a solution to a problem he didn't even understand would emerge from the clutter. Where was Alex? Where had he been that day? He began to pace with agitated strides until an idea came to him. He cleared his throat and called the police station.

### "Well, do we?" Alexandros repeated.

"No, of course not," Alex spat out.

"We're tied to a bed... and if you can't figure that out how are you going to help me?"

"Careful, impudent whelp. I may not understand your world or this situation, but I came to fulfil my destiny. Once I free us then we find my Fox..."

"Your Fox!" Alex hissed.

"You don't have to speak aloud, whelp, I am inside you, remember. And yes, my Fox," Alexandros said calmly.

"He is mine!"

"And you are me, so he is..."

"I am not you, you lost him. I know everything about it. And you had your chance, it's my time..."

"I am not arguing with you, whelp, I..."

Suddenly Alex felt a quiet rage build in the other's soul. He knew why, Throkmorten had returned to the room, his face a pleased mask of success.

"Notyal," Alexandros growled.

"Why do you keep calling me that, precious?" Throkmorten asked as he eagerly approached his beautiful prize.

Alexandros and Alex both, as one, pulled at the bonds as a hand traveled greedily over the juncture of Alex's thighs.

"So beautiful, little Alex, my Alex," Throkmorten purred as he slowly slid Alex's zipper down.

"Let me see what prize I've claimed."

"Touch me and I'll make you wish you were never born again," the voice of the priest came out strong and filled with promise of pain.

"Does my little precious have a bad attitude?" Throkmorten smiled as his hand encounter ripe flesh. He hissed in pleasure as he lifted the soft flesh out of the opening in the fabric.

"Oh, baby, you really are so lovely." He bent immediately and wrapped his mouth around the fat head of Alex's cock. He hummed in pleasure as Alex cursed him. Throkmorten raised his head and stared into the shocking green eyes that glared at him with such hatred.

"I am going to fuck you now, while you curse me. Later, I'll bathe you and suck this pretty cock off so good, you'll scream."

"I think it will be you who screams," Alex swore. He wondered what the priest was doing, why he wasn't doing anything to help. He heard then the voice of the priest in his mind, "Tell him that you just made love to Fox. He'll want to clean you first. His kind likes to think they are first upon a field. Innocence draws them like a moth to the flame. It is why he wanted my Fox, why he was so jealous of our love."

"I... am glad that... that... I made love to my lover before you took me," Alex tried lamely. He could almost hear the priest groan.

"His scent is on me, I'll think of him every minute," Alex finished, his eyes more questioning than triumphant. Wondering if his words would have an effect on Notyal... Layton whatever his name was in this life.

Throkmorten frowned then.

"You have a male lover?"

"Yes, the beautiful man you are trying to frame for your crimes."

Throkmorten stood abruptly and wiped at his mouth.

"I will bathe you now, my little whore. And when I take you, I'll make you forget your beautiful lover."

"No. Never," Alex said in a quiet, yet firm voice.


"Okay, yes, the Bureau thanks you for your co-operation, Officer Bradle," Fox assured in a tone he imagined a special agent might use. When he had settled the phone back in its cradle he frowned.

"What had Alex been doing at Layton Throkmorten's estate?" he wondered.

"Don't think, Mulder, just go with it," he scolded himself. With that he gathered his keys and headed out the door. He would go to the estate and just ask the man what Alex had asked of him, perhaps find out where Alex had gone after he had left him in the police station. He knew only one thing with certainty, he would find Alex and hold tight to him for the rest of his life. The prince he had been in a former life may have lost his Alexandros, but it would not happen again. His face glowed with a determination that he had never felt before. He felt like a knight of lore on a quest, a quest for the only thing that mattered to him. He didn't care that he had just met Alex, he knew they had been destined to be together. It was a promise made long ago to a priest who had sacrificed his life to assure it.


As Throkmorten moved to release Alex's wrist, the priest within him coiled to attack, but Throkmorten stopped.

"I'm a bit too reluctant to untie you without some aid, but don't fear, sweet one, they'll only touch you to help me. I won't share your sweet flesh with them."

"Oh thank you so much, you fucking psycho!"

Throkmorten slapped the pretty, defiant face and leaned over to the nightstand table and pressed a button recessed on its surface. Three large men immediately entered the room.

"Oh shit," Alex groaned. But it was Alexandros who recognized the insignia on the men's jackets. His eyes glowed and he lowered his lids to keep the unearthly fire from his enemies' sight.

"Take him to the bathing chamber, I want him to be purified for me. And go gently, for he is my newest treasure," Throkmorten warned as the men moved toward the bed.


Mulder sat in his car outside the big metal gates of the driveway leading to the mansion. He just knew that Alex was in trouble in there, but he had never been a man of action. He really didn't know what to do now. The only thing he could think of was to try and get closer, maybe even break in, and try to find Alex.

The mansion looked dark and hostile. The thought of Alex alone in a place like that made him feel sick. He took a deep breath, then he set out, walking alongside the big stone walls surrounding the estate. Sooner or later he would find a place where he could climb over the wall in some quiet spot. He had one great advantage, that of surprise.

He also had the .38 caliber handgun that had cost him three hundred dollars this evening at a gun shop.


"This isn't happening...... this can't be happening...."

"That sort of attitude won't help us!" Alexandros told the terrified Alex Krycek.

"You have to try and hold on. Sooner or later, we'll have a chance to escape. You just have to wait for it."

Alex didn't reply, his misery was response enough. As the two big men held him, the third was washing his naked body with an almost obscene gentleness. Obviously the thugs were afraid enough of their master's wrath to obey his orders with consummate care. At another time, Alexandros might have enjoyed the experience, he had been attended to by slaves often enough in his lifetime for it to be no novelty. But Alex was becoming more and more distressed, and Alexandros needed to calm him. That was the main problem. Alex was truly an innocent in these matters. He could count on one hand the number of his encounters with men. To be more exact, with Fox. And none of those had involved the particular cruelties Notyal desired.

If it had been his own body, the sexually proficient Alexandros could have endured the foul one's touch, even simulated pleasure, and waited for a chance to kill the evil one. He had been trained for seven years in all manner of pleasures before he had been granted the mantle of high priest, and had required both talent and enthusiasm for the post. Even the Pharaohs themselves were sent to the temple to learn the arts of love......


Part 6

Alex though...... Alexandros sensed that his young incarnation would find Notyal a great source of suffering. And Alexandros had a secret fear that the young man's mind would be scarred irreparably by Notyal's rape. His mind may even shatter, and not even the love of the beautiful Fox would be able to repair the damage. Already Alexandros felt unexpectedly protective towards his young protege. He would not allow harm to come to Alex.

Then it came to him. A way to escape. If only Alex would trust him enough.

"Alex! Listen to me. Do you want my help?" He tried to project a sense of reassurance.

"......Yes......" came the shaky reply after a few moments.

"Oh, please....!"

"I'm going to initiate you as one of my acolytes. A trainee priest......."

"What!" came the disbelieving reply. Then dully, "You're mad. Now leave me alone!" Alexandros felt Alex lose hope again.

"Listen to me youngling. This can help you. I don't have time to explain, but you must trust me! What have you got to lose?"

"Do what you want......." came the listless reply.

"Do you swear to always obey a lawful order of your high priest, and the goddess. And never to reveal her secrets to others....?"

"Yeah, sure...." Alex said distractedly. The man cleaning him had finished his task, and Alex knew what awaited him.

"By the power of the goddess, I proclaim you one of her servants. You are now an acolyte!"

Short, to be sure, but essentially legal, according to temple law.

"Good, youngling. Now if you want to get your freedom, repeat these words after me. Shout them aloud, as powerfully as you can... Don't be afraid of what you see. And be ready to run!"

Shaking with apprehension, Alex listened to the strange words that were whispered in his ear in a strange language he had never heard before. The big thugs were smirking, knowing what was about to happen to him. He had no options left. Just to trust the voice in his head that may be an ancient priest, or possibly the product of his own madness. He took a deep breath, then yelled out the spell as loudly as he could.

Dazzling light seemed to explode around him, filling the air with a rainbow of colors. And from the light seemed to crystallize a boiling, living mass of fur and claws and teeth. Hundreds, if not thousands of maddened, raging cats, the special servants of the goddess Bast, that descended upon Alex's jailers and began to rend and bite and tear.......

One of the big men went down screaming; the other two recoiled in horror, self-preservation taking precedence over their duty to their employer. They let go of their pretty charge, and Alex found himself free. Naked and vulnerable, he ran towards one of the two doorways and fled down the corridor as fast as he could. In his mind, Alexandros yelled in triumph.


Throkmorten first heard the commotion as he sat awaiting his delectable "guest," a glass of fortifying wine in his hand. He wanted to be potent tonight, so that the luscious Alex would never be able to forget him. No matter how much he wanted to. Throkmorten rose to his feet, and even as he turned toward the sound, two of his men emerged from the corridor to the bathing room, white with terror. Behind them were hundreds of furious, snarling cats

Throkmorten had always hated cats. All his life.

And yet, some memory woke within him at the sight, and he found a word of power on the tip of his tongue.

He screamed it just as the little beasts reached his feet.

They vanished, and something unsuspected uncoiled within him. The certainty that he had once been much more powerful. And the knowledge that his prey was escaping. He roared out his rage.

"Fools! Cowards! After him, or I'll have your balls cut off and feed them to you!"

As they rushed to obey him, he contemplated how he was going to punish his pretty Alex when he caught him.


Alex felt the strength of the priest controlling him and for a short time he actually believed he would be able to run right out of the mansion. He raced down a long corridor that led to a curving staircase, not the main staircase, but too beautiful to be a servants accessway. He heard the screams of the large men end abruptly and Alexandros within him tensed.

"Hurry, young one," Alexandros urged. He felt some secret stirring in the house, something long dormant rising back to fill the shadows with some dark malignancy, and in those shadows hid the screams of the damned, the cries of the innocent.

"He is waking once more," he hissed.

Alex could only imagine and he hoped that the priest was referring to something other than the ancient god Persea, he had no wish to face that one. Throkmorten was bad enough. He felt his pulse pound in agitation as he jumped the last four steps and looked wildly about the unfamiliar foyer. He was in the back of the house; he could smell Throkmorten somewhere near, a smell of cologne, lust and some other dusty scent that he could not place immediately. When his nostrils flared to take in more of the scent it hit him, it smelled like a reptile pit at a zoo. He backed away from that scent, even as the priest within him longed for battle.

Alexandros wanted so to confront his enemy, the one who had taken his jewel away from him, but the young Alex was trembling, like a high-strung racehorse. He wasn't a coward, Alexandros knew, but the idea that someone or thing wanted to enslave him sexually made him want to flee. The priest was not so anxious to experience that himself. The young one was ready to bolt and Alexandros led him toward the scent of fresh air, confident that he could protect the young one until he escaped and was reunited with his beautiful prince. The idea of seeing him again burned even beyond the need for escape... to see him when he was flesh, not a dream, a memory or some phantom that hovered near its beloved. What came after that reunion he didn't know. He had been promised to be reunited with his Fox. His brilliant green eyes glowed with desire. His attention was drawn back into his young self as Alex gasped, startled, the muscled body tensing even further. Alexandros focused on the man coming toward him.

Layton Throkmorten felt something he had never felt before, a powerfulness that did not come from money. That power was as familiar to him as his face in the mirror. The power to own what he wanted. The power to make things happen by sheer desire to see them occur. This power was different. It was a certainty that he could make the pretty male kneel at his feet, spread his body open... it was coiling within him this power, but still he did not understand it. His eyes locked onto the medallion around the long, muscled neck. It rested, enviably just at the top of the valley between Alex's pectoral muscles. The professor must have gifted his lover with the valuable piece. It was no matter, Throkmorten owned them both now.

"You are being very rude, pretty one. I think you should go back up to your room and get on the bed." He smiled, not knowing that his eyes were glowing a faint yellow. He frowned a bit as his toy, his luscious naked toy's eyes seemed to be lit from within, some green fire that burned like jewels set aflame. It made him harder, he could feel the moisture forming at the tip of his cock. He ached to make the pretty lick it off and that thought nearly brought him to his knees. Those pink lips, so sweet, parted for his cock, while the large, innocent eyes watched him for approval. Those eyes weren't so innocent now though. They watched him with an almost predatory hatred. There was something to be feared within that gaze. And fear was not an emotion that Throkmorten allowed. He gathered himself to grab up his succulent find when a trembling voice spoke to his left.

"Fr... freeze... or I'll shoot."

Both Throkmorten and Alex turned at the sound of Fox's voice. He stood just a few meters away, holding a gun, its deadly eye staring at Throkmorten with near animate ferocity.

"Step away from him," he ordered.

Alexandros felt as if he had not seen his lover in a millennium, though he had seen him just hours ago, in dreams, in mists, from the eyes of the panther conjured by Bast. But this was through human eyes, eyes of his true reincarnation. His breath was inhaled with a sharp painful sound. So beautiful still. The most lovely thing in all the world. Though he was dressed differently than that first meeting he was still radiant. As if he knew some secret that no one else could guess. He was frightened, but determined. That lush mouth tightened but not so much that the very ripeness was concealed. Wide eyes that couldn't decide whether to be green or blue held more determination than he'd ever seen in his sweet prince, his jewel.

"Move away, I mean it!" Fox threatened. The feel of the gun in his hand was interestingly enough, soothing. He had no qualms about shooting the wealthy man. He didn't know what was going on, but his lover was nude, his eyes were wide and staring at him as if he had never seen him before. And more, the man looked exactly as had the snake priest from his dreams of before. Yes, he could shoot Throkmorten without a second thought.

"Come to me, Alex," he said in a softer tone, but one that was still steady for its gentleness.

"You!" Throkmorten hissed. It came to him then. That which he had always suspected, in dreams and in the secret whisper of wind through barren trees. The voice in those times had been the voice of his god.

"Persea," he whispered. He remembered suddenly who he was, what he had been. This little prize had been taken from him, and the other, the beautiful priest who had destroyed him. He stared at the one who had been the jewel of the beautiful priest and he sneered.

"So you think to deny me my revenge? You think you can love in this lifetime?"

He grabbed Alex by the neck and the gun swung back and away from him as he held Alex close.

Fox wouldn't shoot, not with Alex so close. He had never shot a handgun before and his aim would have to be true before he dared risk hitting Alex. Fox wished suddenly that it were Alex who held the gun. At least he was an FBI agent, trained for this type of situation.

"Little Priest, I remember you now. I know you know me as you spoke my name while I had you spread upon my bed like the offering you are." At Fox's gasp at those words, he turned and smiled.

"Oh beautiful prize, was it you that Alex spoke of? The lover who tasted him before me? I can live with that. After all I wanted you for my own at one time, didn't I? I wanted you when I saw you there, sprawled out and so innocent, as if the idea of sex was somehow exciting and frightening still at once. Your lips still swollen from his kisses. Oh, how he has tried to corrupt you then as you both corrupt each other now."

Alexandros was still lost in his jewel, unmindful of Alex's rather frantic attempts to regain control, to grab up Fox and flee. At Notyal's words, he bristled. That Notyal craved the body of his young love, even now, after all the passage of time, made him feel as protective as the moment Notyal had first cast his destructive desire toward Fox. He made a threatening growl in his throat, it purred up like some angry feline, but Notyal ignored him.

Notyal used both hands to cup Alex's ass and he rudely pulled at the round muscles.

"I can't wait to see your pretty priest's flesh all stretched and pink. You can lick up after my mess, sweetheart," he said to Fox. Alex took control at that moment and desperately shoved at the man holding him. Alexandros regained control and let Notyal steady him in his greedy hands once more.

Notyal thought of all the ways he wanted to teach the young FBI agent to pleasure him and adhere to him. It was a pleasant burn in his groin. So much to teach one so lovely. He could only hope that Alex would be a novice to most of the things he would show him. Notyal grinned a bit and decided that he would have to be especially creative with Alex in order to assure the pretty eyes would open wide in shock... maybe a little delicious pain.

"Maybe I can have him clean you for me, sweet prince. Would your lover like that, do you think?"

Mulder shook his head, but his eyes kept going to Alex. Was he all right? He just stared at Mulder with such intensity, a blank look almost. What had the perverted bastard done to him? He turned his gaze back to the smiling man who made him want to simply back away.

"You won't win. I called the police. They will put you away forever for kidnapping an agent of the federal government. You know that!" Fox bluffed.

Notyal glared at the pretty and suddenly Mulder cried out as the metal of the gun he held heated up with a suddenness that made him drop it. The gun didn't go off as it fell to the ground but Alex instinctively pulled at Notyal's hold to knock Mulder to the ground in case the tumbling weapon decided to interject a little cold steel into the discussion. Notyal held him tight and Alexandros began to focus once more on the surroundings other than the face of his beloved.

"Calm down, little cop... you are so like him you know... so like the beautiful priest. I wonder... do you dream of him, little cop?" He breathed deep into Alex's ear while his eyes took in the beauty of the little prince. "Do you ever wake with images of the wealthiest men in Egypt coming to throw money at your feet just for the chance to touch you, to taste your flesh? Do you? Do you ever remember me and how we faced each other in your temple of gold and marble?" Notyal's hands moved to caress one rounded buttock, sighing in pleasure at the angry hiss from the little prince.

Notyal didn't notice the sly smile that curved one corner of Alex's mouth. If he didn't know that Alexandros was facing him once more, he would be less careful... It could help Alexandros get his jewel and his young self out of harm's way. He knew instinctively that Notyal was strong after all the centuries, whereas he was without the help of his goddess. This was a battle that he again must fight alone. He could feel Persea near. Could nearly smell the slithering heat of his lust. Shadows coiled near Fox's body and swirled sinuously about his frame, undetected.

"No! You're crazy! I don't know what you are talking about! I don't know why I called you Notyal. I don't know anything," Alexandros spoke, forcing Alex aside and taking over as completely as he could, forcing his voice to tremble in part anger and part fear. Notyal groaned at the tone.

"So, my priest, my lovely enemy, at my mercy with no memory. But still you must know something of the past pretty one, for how else could you call upon those creatures?" Notyal teased a bit, thinking of the cats that he had so easily banished. He brushed one big hand over the soft flesh of Alex's penis and scrotum.

"Some memory there I think," he whispered.

Alexandros stilled the young Alex and he thought desperately how to bring this man this evil priest to his knees. When Notyal looked to Fox once more, Alexandros had to restrain himself as well.

"Pretty jewel, sweet like ripened fruit, plucked, yet still so sweet. Do you remember anything? Do you remember how you wanted to come to me? So nearly naked and young. Like you are now, but with the mark of a concubine then not now.

Alexandros wanted to cry out that his love had never been a concubine, had been his one true mate, but instead he forced himself to silence. He was stunned when Fox seemed to sway his eyes far away and his voice, when he spoke, was dreamy, husky. Sensual. He was himself brought back to the nights beside the Nile, quiet boats, rocking in the gentle water as torches flickered, illuminating his lover. That voice, husky then with desire, telling him of his lonely life. Tears stung his eyes at how much his own pride had cost him. So sure had he been of his mastery of the arts that he had not even deigned to ask his goddess for help. It was only then that he understood how she had allowed this to happen, to teach him a lesson he would never be able to make again.

Fox spoke and his tone held Notyal too in thrall.

"I remember, the water, so warm, the marble beneath our feet as he claimed me his, no other's. The ring he gave me to symbolize our love, but which I tossed away in the sea as I fled from him." He turned eyes, turbulent eyes up from the floor and stared vaguely at Notyal.

"I held his heart and he mine. You were there... yes, dark and lovely... I wanted you... wanted to have your hands bruise me, tear at me."

Alexandros looked away and focused within. He let Fox's words wash over him as he tried to think how Persea could be rising again. There had to be some symbol of his power near for his scent to be all around, some symbol that he could destroy, but not with a mere symbolic toppling to appease his goddess, but to shatter with all his being, even if it meant never seeing his lover again. He had lost his Fox to pride, had been sent on a quest to restore his place with his goddess, though he had not known his price at the time. When he had returned to her she had given him another chance to be with his love, a chance to defeat Notyal... to defy Persea and keep him from his dark intent.

What then was he to do? He heard Fox continue and his words startled him.

"My lover died for me, died because he was not strong enough to hold me. Are you strong enough, Notyal, or are you too prideful to keep that which was given as a gift from a goddess?"

"Fox!" Alexandros husked, his voice confused and yet there was no indication that Fox had heard him. His eyes were linked to that of the dark priest.

"Would you want to cast aside that which you wanted so long ago, to be replaced by one who doesn't even understand why you want him now?"

Notyal narrowed his eyes.

"I have you both. Do you try to deal with me? Barter for your lover's life?"

"Alexandros, high Priest of Bastet toppled your god in his temple."

Notyal hissed.

"He loved me. He worshipped me too well. Topple me and avenge your God," Fox purred.

"Fox, no!" Alexandros growled. He was too close to exposing himself then, but Fox continued.

"There are no symbols of your power here for him to destroy, but you have me."

Notyal grinned and for a moment there was the ghost of the wealthy Layton there.

"Do you dream of the first time with Alexandros?"

"What is it with you and dreams, you sick fuck?" Alex growled out.

"This is my lover in the here and now!" He had wrested control from a suddenly deeply secretive Alexandros to spit this last out, but internally he heard the priest's thoughts. They were consumed with the idea of finding the image of Persea and destroying him once and for all.

"I would come to you and let you take me, take me all the way down into what you wish," Fox whispered.

"I walked... no, ran from my love once and now I will stand here before you and offer to give myself for one hour's respite for him. Take him somewhere that he can only imagine what you do to me, but where he can hear my screams."

Notyal was inflamed. The image of this one screaming in pain and maybe pleasure too had consumed him for so long that his body now trembled like an untried acolyte raising his first dagger to the breast of a gasping sacrifice. He called to his guards and ordered them to take Alex to a room nearby. To claim his revenge on the priest. It was perfect. Fox spoke the truth. Alexandros had loved the prince more than life itself... perhaps even more than his beloved goddess. This taking of the young beauty would break Alex as nothing else could.

Alex struggled and Alexandros looked long at his love.

Fox stared at Alex.

"I know you don't remember any of it really, but the Goddess came to me, she let me see that it is I who must give this time. Oh, if only you could remember, for she let me know that to destroy him once more you will have to give up all that you love to do her will."

"What?" Alex gasped. How could Fox think he didn't remember anything? They had spoken of it. He opened his mouth to assail Fox with that very same question when Alexandros clamped his mouth shut.

"Quiet, whelp, can't you see he is telling us what to do? Our Fox is both lovely and sly."

"But I am not willing to give him up to best this creep! I want to get him away from him!"


Part 7

Alexandros knew this was true. Could feel the possessiveness, the outraged love in his little Alex's heart and he knew that lesson he had been meant to learn. Bastet should have been first in his heart and she would have given him anything... even his sweet jewel. He would have to be ready to sacrifice even Fox to rid the world of Notyal though Persea would always be among the shadows. He let himself be led away, casting one last look at Fox, whose eyes had lowered to the ground as Notyal strode toward him. Alex struggled to regain control, but Alexandros made him cower when the guards grabbed him, made him whimper when they shoved him into a small bathroom. They thought him harmless, forgetting utterly, or not even considering that he had anything to do with, the cats that had run rampant not so long ago.

Alexandros waited until they had walked away before he let his mind seek out the lock on the door, puny and cheap for all its expense, he was able to effortlessly open the door. He silenced Alex as he let the cat take over and he followed his senses toward Persea.

Fox was led to a room that housed an indoor pool.

"It will be like the Nile, like the first time with the beautiful Alexandros. Oh, you know how I will play with him later. First I will make you scream. I want that so much. I want to hear you beg me to stop it, to end it, but you will know now that I will not stop."

Fox shivered and allowed himself to be stripped. The room was in shadows but there was some small light in the water and the shadows from the rippling water cast malignant shapes all about the room and over Notyal's face. He wondered what made the water move so much and his curiosity made Notyal chuckle.

"Oh, come, sweet prince, lose yourself to me in my calm waters," he said slyly. He ran his hands roughly down Fox's frame, pinching a tender nipple roughly delighting in the small sound of pain that motion elicited. He pulled Fox back onto his thigh and pressed up firmly making a small moan come from Fox as his scrotum was pressed to hard muscle.

"Come," he whispered and led Fox to the water's edge. He laughed delightedly when Fox halted abruptly, his gasp of horror a delight to Notyal's ears.

Fox wanted to scream. Though the Goddess Bastet had indeed come to him and told him the right things to say, to spur both priests into action, she had never mentioned this. A pool filled with snakes. Not just with dozens, but with hundreds, maybe thousands of snakes of all sizes, writhing about in the water. And Notyal was pushing him toward the steps leading to the shallow end.

"What is it, beautiful Prince? Do you not like your bridal bed?" He laughed then and brought the young beauty into the water, wishing suddenly that he had brought the young Alex to watch. There would be time later for such sport. Now he needed to be inside this one. Fox turned abruptly and was trying to wade past him, crying out wildly as the snakes writhed about him. He thrust Fox firmly in front of him and whispered in the sweet ear, "If you move in any way that doesn't please me, they will cover you and drag you under. Would you like that, my sweetling? I would hate to lose a prize such as you, but then I would still have the sweet Alex to bring here." He knew Fox would never consign his lover to such a nightmare and so he wasn't surprised when Fox stilled, his eyes huge in the dimly lit room. Notyal slid one finger into Fox's anus, roughly, hungrily. Smiling as a snake swam between Fox's thighs, its body rolling sleekly over the young man's balls. Fox gave a muffled shriek but didn't move. Notyal groaned, as two of his fingers seemed to stretch the sweet, pink flesh to the limit.

"Oh, what a sweet fuck you will be, little Fox."

Alex was nearly uncontrollable when he heard Fox's first scream not so far away. Alexandros himself felt a small part of him die at the terror in that cry, but he controlled Alex and ignored his dire threats. How did the young one really hope to kill him while he inhabited his own body? Another scream from Fox and Alex had gone to silently plotting, while another small part of Alexandros died. But he had to do his Goddess' bidding. She had spoken through Fox and he meant to honor her wishes, though he would not want to live a moment longer knowing how he had abandoned his lover to Notyal.

He followed his instincts until he reached a small antechamber that glowed faintly amber. It was there. The statue of the dark god, not even protected such was the ignorance of the one Notyal commanded. The other, the man who had been Layton Throkmorten was no more... he had been but a dreamer, lost now that Notyal had wakened. He stared at the statue and sensed the god in the room, gathering itself to attack the young man who was straining to hear some sound from his tortured lover. Alexandros knew what he had to do and just as Persea descended from the high shadows of the room he released Alex, whispering, "Go get the gun from where Fox dropped it and go to Fox. Tell him that I loved him more than myself. Hurry!" He felt a tearing away as the physical was gone once more leaving him only the spirit, but it was enough, as Bastet was pleased by his sacrifice. As Alex was bending to pick up the discarded weapon he heard the sound of shattering stone. He didn't give it two thoughts as he raced to find Fox. His heart pounded and the sound of silence where there had been screams frightened him more than he had ever been before.

Fox felt the first thrust of the large penis and he screamed. The snakes were in a frenzy now, rolling about and more sliding into the water every moment. When the whole of the cock was forced inside him he screamed again, but a viscous bite on the neck from Notyal's strong teeth stilled him and he tried to find some way to fade from this moment. His nipples were clawed at as the rough fucking began and he tried to focus on Alex. Not Alexandros, but Alex.

Suddenly the snakes disappeared. Notyal stilled and clutched at Fox's shoulders with cruel hands.

"What has he done?" he hissed.

Fox smiled, he couldn't stop himself.

"Hey, fucker. Did you forget me?" Alex hissed from the pool's edge. His eyes were no longer glowing an unearthly light but the fire of rage burned bright within the jade depths. He pulled the trigger and Fox had time to gasp before Notyal toppled in to the water, twitching in a macabre death spasm.

"That was a rhetorical question, fucker," Alex snarled.

Fox gaped up at him and Alex jumped into the water and embraced him. He wanted to cry at the shocked look on Fox's face, as if Fox was unsure whether it was over or not, unsure as to whether he was still being attacked.

"C'mon, baby, let's get the hell out of here," Alex urged softly.

Fox nodded, "The pool... the pool was full of snakes... so many sn... snakes," he breathed.

"They're gone now," Alex assured and led Fox to the edge of the pool. Fox was trembling and Alex aimed the gun at Notyal again and shot him twice more just to feel some small bit better.

"He was going to take you here... I couldn't let him," Fox said, looking at Alex in wonder.

"How?"

"I really don't know." Alex led his lover out of the room.


The evil one was destroyed, its statue shattered into a million pieces, and the danger was gone. The young Alex and his love would be safe now. Alexandros had acted to safeguard them, and had succeeded.

So why did he feel so bereft, so alone? He knew, of course. While he had been in Alex's body, there had been the prospect of holding his great love Fox in his arms again, and tenderly caressing his sweet form.

But all that was lost now. He was a spirit. Like the Bennu bird of Egyptian myth, he was one of the soul-forms that inhabited the After life.

Alone.

Drifting irresistibly towards Fox Mulder, invisible, he watched with a mixture of pride and envy as young Alex wrapped his arms around Fox and held him close. Mulder closed his eyes and leaned in against Alex, holding him tightly and resting his head on the other man's shoulder. They had been through so much, in such a short time, yet they had displayed an astonishing level of love and commitment to each other. Each had been willing to sacrifice himself for the other. They deserved a little happiness.

My son A musical voice intruded on his misery. Who else but his divine Mistress.

"What do you wish of me?" Alexandros whispered submissively. He knew he was hers before all else, and anyway, what other purpose was left to him?

Come

Flying on wings of the spirit, Alexandros did as he was bidden, and it seemed as though he was falling through a vast darkness shot through with stars. And with a sudden, agonizing jolt, he was in his own body once more, kneeling naked on cool marble, in the center of a beautiful room. A sleeping chamber, hung with pale silks that billowed in a light breeze. The early morning sun shone into the room, highlighting the inhabitant of the room's centrally placed bed. A sleeper who was in the throes of an uneasy dream, his beautiful face illuminated by whatever unhappy dream world he walked in. His Fox!

I keep my promises, dear one The goddess spoke in his mind.

"But I thought..... I was dead....."

All things are possible..... for love The divine voice faded into musical laughter.

Alexandros found himself moving irresistibly forward, parting the fine silks and moving to Fox's side. He sat down next to his jewel and gently stroked the beloved face. Fox murmured in his sleep and sighed softly a trace of a smile easing the lines of sadness that Alexandros saw were newly present on his face. Fox was thinner too, and the skin of his cheekbones was pulled tighter, so that his face looked hollow and curiously vulnerable.

Alexandros could wait no longer The surge of happiness within him was too great. He leaned over Fox and kissed his full lips. Long lashes fluttered and the hazel eyes opened wide in surprise.

"Ohhh....." Fox breathed, very softly, as if hardly daring to hope. A tear glittered on his cheek.

"My jewel," Alexandros purred. His next kiss told Fox exactly how real he was. And their bodies were soon as closely joined as their hearts


"You think we got away with it?" Mulder asked Alex anxiously. The two of them had tried to remove all traces of their presence from the mansion. The gun had been wiped of prints and quietly dropped down a sewer six blocks away from the mansion. Oddly enough, they had not seen any sign of Throkmorten's men. Like rats abandoning a sinking ship they had simply drifted away into the shadows.

Alex nodded. With his knowledge of forensics, he had made the place as clean as he could. And of course, his prints could always be explained as coming from his official visit to the mansion. And he would take care to make incriminating evidence disappear, just like the knife Throkmorten's men had planted on Fox. Now they could relax a little.

The two of them drove to Mulder's apartment and ascended in the lift to his floor.

Neither of them spoke. Alex felt unexpectedly awkward, now that he was finally getting what he had wanted for so long. He and Fox were about to spend the night together for the first time, and the outcome would determine the course of their relationship.

Alex found himself nervous and unexpectedly shy. What if Fox didn't like him? What if he made a mess of his one chance at happiness?

Fox opened the door to his apartment and switched on the light. It was a plain but homey place. An obvious bachelor pad, bearing the stamp of Fox's masculinity. A pile of manuscripts perched untidily next to a computer. An old leather couch, battered but comfortable looking.

Fox looked as uncomfortable as his guest. Hesitantly he smiled, and Alex relaxed a little. This was Fox. His jewel.

Fox cleared his throat.

"So, what happens to Dooley?"

Alex shrugged and ran a hand through his inky black hair.

"His reputation is damaged enough as it is. Thanks to your lawyer." Fox had explained the situation to Alex, who was still bemused by Dooley's actions. He looked about, and bit his lip.

"A few well-placed hints and he'll be out of the Bureau, the bastard."

"Okay, well, there is one other thing then, isn't there?" Fox asked and his voice sent tiny shivers of delight through Alex's body, like an electrical current.

"What is that, Fox?"

"You said, that when this was all over, you had a surprise for me," Fox purred.

Alex stared at the young professor and hardened immediately.

"That's right, I did, didn't I?" He closed the distance between them and decisively caught hold of Mulder's lapels. And with their first kiss, all of his doubts melted away forever.


She smiled at Alex in his dreams that night.

My young priest There was laughter at his surprised denial. Already you learn to use my gifts

Alex blushed. It was true. Knowing Mulder was sore from Throkmorten's attack, he had lain on Mulder's bed and trustingly spread his legs for his lover. It had been incredible. A revelation and totally addictive. Blushingly using the things he had learned from watching Alexandros.

As my priest it is your duty to worship me thus at least three times daily, and never let my bounty go to waste. Promise me this and my rewards will be great

Alex agreed, somewhat enthusiastically. Hadn't that been enough of a surprise for his Fox? The unleashed ardor they would bring out in one another?

If Mulder's appreciative cries were anything to go by that night, his reward must have been very great.


The End


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